The Mercenary
by Tribal Shimmy
Summary: Alexander is led to believe Hephaistion is dead.


**THE MERCENARY**

"Hephaistion."

"What did you say, Agathon?" Timotheus had been busy stalking a cricket, chirping in the long grass in which they lay, just outside of their school in Mieza.

Lessons had finished, not just for the day, for good, and soon they would be going to Pella.

Agathon looked at Timotheus, and regretted he had him for a friend. The boy was just twelve years old, whereas he was five years older – the same age as Alexander, who should have been his friend.

"Why do you think that Alexander chooses Hephaistion, as a friend?"

"I like Hephaistion," replied Timotheus, laughing as he caught the cricket, and held it trapped within his hands. He smiled at Agathon, and then decided that he should have said more. "He and Alexander have been friends for years now. They were younger than I when they met. Everyone says it has always been the same between them. You have only been at Mieza for a year, Agathon, it stands to reason you should not be so close."

"They all fawn around him…Perdiccas, Seleucus, Ptolemy…"

"They like him. Do you not like him?"

"One day he will be King. My father wants me to be close to him."

"And now you are my friend, Agathon. That shows how good you are. None of the elder boys spend time with me."

Agathon sighed, and lay back in the grass. Timotheus was quiet, playing with the cricket. Agathon rolled over and propped his head in his hand, looking towards the school.

"Do you think that Alexander loves Hephaistion?"

Timotheus giggled. "I heard Cassander say that to Ptolemy."

"Do you think that they have yet made love?"

Timotheus giggled harder, blushing at the thought. "Here? At the school? How could they…with Aristotle keeping watch like he does?"

"Aristotle isn't here all the time…like now…he will not be back."

Timotheus shrugged. "I think it would be lovely. They suit each other, don't they, Agathon?" Do you think if I keep the cricket it will sing for me?"

"Give it here," Agathon ordered.

"Take care of it," warned Timotheus, as he carefully transferred the cricket to Agathon's hands.

As soon as the transfer was complete, Agathon crushed the cricket in his hands.

"What did you do that for?" wailed Timotheus.

Agathon laughed. "You can always get another one," he replied, wiping his hand on his chiton.

Timotheus sat still and listened. "I hear one. Do you, Agathon?"

Agathon smiled, as Timotheus began his hunt. How quickly he forgot…how quickly he replaced what he had lost. Agathon lay back down, a plan formulating in his mind.

PART TWO

A few days later, while the others headed to Pella, Agathon took the opportunity to ride home to Gephria. It was not far from the palace, and he had promised his father he would visit, in his last letter home.

His mother embraced him as he arrived, and his two younger sisters ran to greet him. They wanted to know what Alexander was like; if they could go to Pella with him. Agathon pulled their hair, making them squeal, as always. He went into the house with his family and was greeted there by his father, Archelaus.

"You've grown, Agathon," his father said, putting his arm around his shoulders and leading him into the garden. "Let us walk, and talk in privacy," he smiled. "How long are you planning to visit?"

"I should only stay a couple of days, I will be taking a place in the Vanguard. I asked if I could come to see you first."

"You must work hard, Agathon. Never slack. Never miss an opportunity."

"I know father, have you not said the same thing to me often?"

Archelaus smiled, and ruffled Agathon's dark hair. "How is Alexander?"

"He likes me well enough, I suppose."

Archelaus stopped walking and turned to Agathon. "How well? Are you in his confidence?"

Agathon wanted to lie; but his father could always tell when he was lying. "No…only one has his confidence…he likes me well enough, though. If only Hephaistion…"

"Amyntor's son?"

Agathon nodded, his face flushing red. His father hated General Amyntor, through an old dispute that Agathon had no knowledge of.

Archelaus shook his head. "I went to a lot of trouble to get you to Mieza. I needed you here; you are my only son, after all. So it was a sacrifice to let you go, and Philip did not understand why I would want to send you, in what time was left. I could hardly say it was so that you could ingratiate yourself with Alexander, could I?" Archelaus' voice rose higher with each word he spoke.

"They may yet quarrel," Agathon replied. "Or something might happen…to Hephaistion."

"Like what?" snapped Archelaus.

There was a silence between father and son. Archelaus continued walking, and Agathon followed.

"You should come to court, father," said Agathon, softly.

"For what?" replied Archelaus. "I could never gain Philip's favour, either. He preferred the company of Parmenion, Antipater and Attalus. It seems that we are forever destined to be out of favour…power just out of our grasp."

"I'm sorry, father…I shall go to Pella tomorrow…and I will do my best to be a good friend to Alexander. Are Admetus and Piraeus still around? May they accompany me to Pella tomorrow?"

"Those two rogues? Yes. You will find them in the servants' quarters as usual. Why do you want them?" Archelaus turned and smiled at Agathon. "They always took to you, ever since you were a boy. Pity you are a friend to the likes of them, and not the future King." He sighed. "I will let them go with you tomorrow, now come let us eat, your mother misses you."

Agathon grinned and thanked his father. "One more thing," he said. "I could use some money…my funds are rather low."

Archelaus laughed. "I might have known that there was another reason for your visit." Once again he put his arm around Agathon's shoulders and led him back towards the house.

PART THREE

Agathon was eager to be gone the next day. His father had arranged for Admetus and Piraeus to accompany him, and they waited now on horseback as Agathon said his goodbyes. They were a contrast to each other. Admetus, tall and spindly, with a scar on his right cheek, his hair lank and dirty. Piraeus, small and stout with a mop of dark hair. They were unlikely friends.

Agathon was pleased to see Admetus and Piraeus. He had meant to find them out, but his family had wanted to make the most of their time with him during his short visit. Admetus winked at him as Agathon mounted his horse, giving a final wave, before galloping off in the direction of Pella.

Once out of sight of his home, though, he pulled up, wheeling his horse around to confront Admetus and Piraeus.

"What is it?" asked Piraeus.

Agathon paused, about to put his thoughts into words. "I need to ask something of you both."

"Then ask it," said Admetus, never the most patient of men.

"I don't know how to ask…I just know that you have always been there for me, when I needed you. That you, Admetus, you have fought in battle, and you, Piraeus, you were trustworthy. You have both always been there for me, when my father was angry…when I needed you."

"Get to the point," Admetus snapped.

"I need you to kill someone for me."

Piraeus laughed. Admetus looked with respect on Agathon. "I always knew you had the heart of a snake," he said. "Who must we kill?"

"So will you do it?"

Admetus and Piraeus looked at each other. "It is nothing to us," Piraeus replied.

"He is Alexander's favourite," Agathon said, quickly, thinking that this information would loosen their resolve.

"So?" laughed Admetus. "Just tell us what we need to do."

PART FOUR

Alexander had finally been able to leave the palace, and seek out his friends at the barracks. The way his mother had reacted on his return, you would have thought he had been away for years. She had immediately launched into a tirade against his father. Nothing changed, except now he had the certain comradeship of good friends to see him through…and the love of one in particular.

He found Ptolemy and Perdiccas at the stables; they had just finished exercising their horses. Perdiccas was leaning over the horse trough, washing the sweat from his face. Ptolemy was sitting on the edge of it, arms folded over his chest, talking. He smiled as Alexander approached, and must have told Perdiccas, as he turned and looked.

"Alexander!" Are you lonely in that great palace, by yourself?" asked Perdiccas.

Alexander grinned. "How can I be lonely with both my mother and my father demanding my time?" He looked around. "Where are the others?"

"Philotas and Cassander are in the kitchens; Leonnatus is running an errand; Seleucus is with some girl, somewhere, and Hephaistion is out exercising Bucephalus for you. He didn't know if you would be here to ride yourself," Ptolemy smiled.

Alexander sat alongside Ptolemy, the mid-day sun was warm, and the gentle bustle of the barracks was comforting. He wished he could be quartered with his friends, but a prince had to be at the palace.

A rider approached, dismounting as soon as the horse had come to a halt.

"Agathon," Alexander greeted. "Back so soon?"

"You know how it is with family; as soon as I got there I wanted to be gone." Agathon handed his horse over to a groom. "Where are the others?"

"Here and there," replied Ptolemy.

Agathon nodded.

"Philotas and Cassander, are in the kitchens," Perdiccas said, judging they were closest to Agathon, and that he might be looking for them. Then, as an afterthought, "Timotheus is in the palace."

Agathon was annoyed that Perdiccas should mention Timotheus. Especially with Alexander there. Making out he had no friends of his own age. He tried to hide his anger, looking at Alexander. Alexander was studying him.

"How are the King and Queen?" Agathon asked, awkwardly.

"They are well, thank you," replied Alexander

Agathon looked around. "What are our quarters like?"

"Comfortable enough," replied Ptolemy. "I could find someone to show you to your rooms if you wish."

"I'm in no hurry," replied Agathon. Aware that Alexander was still studying him. He grew uncomfortable. It was as though Alexander was trying to ascertain just why he didn't like him.

Seleucus appeared, looking very pleased with himself. He came from the direction of the kitchens, and seeing his friends, began to run towards them.

"Here's Seleucus to brag to us all about the servant girl he has conquered," groaned Perdiccas, in mock dismay.

As Seleucus approached, galloping hooves could be heard and Hephaistion appeared on Bucephalus. He brushed by Seleucus, leaning down to lift his chiton up, revealing Seleucus' undergarments, sending him flying forwards.

As Hephaistion reined Bucephalus in, he turned and laughed as Seleucus managed to save himself from falling, his hands flailing the air and curses pouring from his lips. Hephaistion laughed. His friends, and the soldiers who had seen, laughed too.

Seleucus regained his good humour quickly, and gave a low bow, before walking to his friends.

"You bastard, Hephaistion," he said, shaking his fist, but smiling.

Hephaistion was still laughing. The reins slack on Bucephalus, he leaned back, clutching at his sides. "I am sorry, Seleucus, I couldn't resist," he said, eventually. "How was your servant girl?"

Seleucus smiled. "I think I am in love."

Perdiccas laughed. "You fall in love too easily, Seleucus. Tomorrow it will be someone new."

"So here's to tomorrow," replied Seleucus, cuffing Perdiccas in the shoulder.

"Who were the men I saw you with, Agathon?" Hephaistion asked, suddenly. "I saw you talking to them, before they rode off."

Agathon was aware of everyone looking at him. He looked at Hephaistion. "I was hoping that nobody would see me with them. They are my father's servants. He had them accompany me back here. I asked them to leave before I got to the palace."

"And you paid them to leave you?"

Agathon flushed. Hephaistion had seen too much. If only he knew he was paying them to kill him. That would have been nice to say, to have watched Hephaistion's face as he said it. Instead he had to say: "My father cares for me."

"It must be nice to have a father who cares for you so much," smiled Ptolemy. "Mine sent me here, at eight years old, on my own."

"As we often hear," laughed Perdiccas.

Agathon laughed, looking around. Hephaistion should not have said anything. He calmed himself. Hephaistion would not be saying anything more after tomorrow.

Hephaistion jumped off Bucephalus, and led him to the trough. Alexander stood up, to stroke the horse's neck as he drank. "How was he?" he asked.

"Eager," replied Hephaistion. "He goes like the wind, Alexander. It is an honour to ride him."

Alexander smiled. "Would you ride him for me tomorrow, Hephaistion? My father wants me with him."

"I could ride him for you," Agathon said, quickly. This prompted more laughter from the group. "I am a fine horseman," snapped Agathon, turning with anger to face them.

"But you do not choose to ride Bucephalus," said Ptolemy. "He chooses who rides him."

Alexander took the reins from Hephaistion, offering them to Agathon. "Here, see if he chooses you."

Agathon hesitated. He looked over at Seleucus and Perdiccas, who were grimacing, as if anticipating that he was heading for a fall. Hephaistion was biting his lip, as if to stifle laughter. He took the reins.

Everybody backed away as he prepared to leap on to Bucephalus. Agathon was past the point of no return. He would lose face if he changed his mind. The horse seemed quiet; perhaps Hephaistion had tired him enough.

He leapt up, sitting upright, feeling the power beneath him. Bucephalus pranced forward, but Agathon pulled gently on the reins and quieted the stallion. He grinned down at Alexander, just as Bucephalus put in a mighty buck, unseating Agathon, and then rearing to send Agathon somersaulting to the ground.

Once more there was laughter, but this time the joke was on Agathon, who did not take it as well as Seleucus. He tried to cover his anger, but he refused Hephaistion's offer to help him up, and slapped away Ptolemy's hand as he tried to brush the dust from his clothes.

Hephaistion took hold of Bucephalus' reins and led him to the stables. Alexander said nothing, but followed.

"Bucephalus loves Alexander," said Ptolemy, watching them go.

"And Alexander loves Hephaistion," Seleucus said.

"So the horse judges them the same," added Perdiccas.

"And you do not care about Alexander…loving Hephaistion?" Agathon asked.

Seleucus, Perdiccas and Ptolemy all looked at each other. Ptolemy answered for them. "Is it because Alexander is a prince? Is that why we should care? Alexander is lucky to have found Hephaistion. It is a lonely life, not knowing whom you can trust, but now he has Hephaistion by his side. Friendship is the easiest option, I would settle for that, but Hephaistion truly loves Alexander, and he has chosen the hardest road."

"He knows that Alexander will make him rich…give him power," Agathon replied.

Ptolemy shook his head, looking at Seleucus and Perdiccas, before back at Agathon.

"And that is why his road is hard; that is how people will judge it. But look into Hephaistion's eyes next time you see him with Alexander and tell me you do not see love."

Agathon walked off, too angry to talk.

"He's an odd one, that one," said Perdiccas.

"Ambitious," noted Seleucus.

"I wouldn't like to cross him," Ptolemy replied. "Come, I'm hungry." Seleucus and Perdiccas went with him to the kitchen.

PART FIVE

"It isn't much," said Hephaistion, opening the door and entering his quarters.

Alexander followed him into the room. It had a bed, chest, table and chair.

"However, it's the first place I've ever had to call my own."

Alexander looked at Hephaistion. He had always envied the fact that his friends got to share their rooms. He never thought they might have envied him his private quarters.

Hephaistion closed the door, and glanced up at Alexander. Alexander could not resist, and stepped forward, embracing his friend. "I love this room, Hephaistion, because you are here. I've missed you."

Hephaistion brought his hands up, along Alexander's back. "I've missed you too, Alexander." He laughed. "I've wanted to do this since we arrived here, but there's always someone around." He kissed Alexander's lips; tenderly, at first, then as Alexander responded, he opened his mouth and deepened the kiss.

Alexander brought his hand up to the side of Hephaistion's face, letting his fingers grasp Hephaistion's hair. He felt aroused, and knew, if the kiss continued, he would need release. He pulled back a little, planting butterfly kisses on Hephaistion's lips and face.

"What is it?" asked Hephaistion. "I thought that we might…" He looked over toward the bed, then back to Alexander.

"You want to…again?" Alexander asked. "I was worried that I had hurt you, last time."

"The first time," said Hephaistion, and smiled. "You didn't hurt me, Alexander. Those were cries of pleasure."

"They were?"

Hephaistion laughed. "I thought I made that clear. I loved what we did. I loved that we had the chance. All those months of Aristotle watching you…watching us."

"It was worth the wait, Hephaistion. We truly became one."

Hephaistion smiled. "You strike me, Alexander. You have from the first. I will never need another…or want another."

Alexander took Hephaistion's hand, and kissed it, then led him to the bed. He turned to his mate. "You are sure?"

"Must I tell you every time?" Hephaistion gently chided, kicking off his boots and lying on the bed, making room for Alexander.

Alexander removed his sandals, and lowered himself down, pressing his body against Hephaistion's, groin-to-groin, chest-to-chest, lips to lips.

Hephaistion groaned with desire as Alexander moved against him slowly.

A knock came at the door. "Hephaistion? Hephaistion? Are you in there?"

Alexander shook his head, putting a finger to his lips.

"They will try the door, if I do not reply," whispered Hephaistion. "Yes. Wait there," he shouted. He gave Alexander a remorseful look, kissed his lips and then left the bed. Straightening his chiton, and tidying his hair he answered the door, opening it a little so Alexander could not be seen. "Cassander. Agathon," he said.

"What are you up to?" came Cassander's voice.

Hephaistion looked down at the floor. "I was lying on my bed," he replied, honestly.

Alexander smiled. Hephaistion was no liar, he never had been.

"It's only afternoon. Are you alone?" This time it was Agathon who asked the question.

"What did you want?" asked Hephaistion, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Alexander rose from the bed, and walked quietly to the door, running his fingers along Hephaistion's where he held it open. Hephaistion entwined his fingers with Alexander's.

"Parmenion has asked that we attend him on the parade ground," said Agathon.

"Now?" asked Hephaistion, his fingers pausing in their exploration of Alexander's.

"Immediately," said Cassander. "Have you seen Alexander?" Cassander asked.

"Is he needed?"

"No. I was just asking. I heard he was here earlier, I thought he might still be with you."

"You two go on ahead. I need to put on my boots."

"We can wait," said Agathon.

"I'll be there in a little while," replied Hephaistion, shutting the door.

Hephaistion leaned against the door, and sighed. He looked at Alexander. "I have to go."

Alexander moved in front of Hephaistion, placing his hands either side of him. "Not without a kiss," Alexander said, leaning forward.

He had just touched Hephaistion's lips with his own, when another knock came at the door.

"Hephaistion?"

Hephaistion sighed, looking up to the Gods. "Yes, Ptolemy."

"Parmenion wants us…"

"On the parade ground. Yes, I know. I will see you there."

"Hurry then," came the reply, before the sound of footsteps running down the hall.

Hephaistion looked at Alexander. "I have to go."

Alexander released him, and watched as he sat on the bed and pulled on his boots, then fetched his shield, sword and helmet.

"It is bound to be some sort of drill," he complained. "And I had another drill in mind."

There was another knock at the door.

"Hephaistion?"

"Yes, I know, I will see you there, Perdiccas," Hephaistion replied. He went to the door.

"Come to my rooms tonight, Hephaistion," Alexander whispered. "I have guards on the door, we will not be disturbed."

Hephaistion smiled, broadly, stepping forward to kiss Alexander quickly on the lips, before leaving.

Alexander looked over at the bed. He put on his sandals, and listening at the door first, went out of the room. He walked along the hallway, turning left and out into the courtyard. It was deserted; he could hear orders being shouted from the parade ground.

"Alexander."

Alexander turned to the voice. "Agathon."

Agathon stepped forward from the shadows. He had told Cassander he had to go back for something, neglecting to say it was to confirm that Alexander had been with Hephaistion. "We are all on the parade ground. Are you looking for anyone in particular?"

"No. I was just on my way back to the palace."

"There is a banquet tonight."

"Yes. Are you coming?"

Agathon smiled. "May I sit with you, Alexander?" he asked.

"Of course," smiled Alexander.

"I could come to your rooms first…we could spend some time alone," Agathon suggested.

Alexander frowned. "No. That won't be necessary. I will see you later."

With that, Alexander headed back to the palace. Agathon resolved to look his best that evening. Whatever it took, he would conquer Alexander's heart and make it his own.

PART SIX

Agathon hurried to the dining hall. In his efforts to look his best he had made himself late.

"Agathon!"

Agathon turned. Timotheus was running along the hallway after him.

"Go away, Timotheus," he said, without slowing his pace.

"Wait for me, Agathon," Timotheus cried.

Agathon stood and waited for Timotheus to join him. Once Timotheus was by his side, though, he gripped Timotheus' arm and shook him.

Timotheus wailed. "Agathon! Stop! You're hurting!"

"Go away then, Timotheus. I do not want you hanging around me any more. Do you hear me?"

Timotheus had tears in his eyes. "What is it Agathon? Have I done something wrong?" He held his arm as Agathon released it.

"You're just a child, Timotheus. I am a man now, and I choose not to have you whining after me like a lovesick puppy. Now go. I'm late enough as it is."

"You want Alexander for a friend," Timotheus said.

"And what is wrong with that?"

"He has friends. Hephaistion…"

"May not be a friend for much longer…" Agathon stopped himself, looking at the boy, trying to judge if he had betrayed himself. The boy was crying; it was hard to tell.

"Agathon. I thought we were friends. You can be friends with Alexander, and still be friends with me."

He had not heard. Agathon smiled. "Go away, Timotheus." He ran on to the hall.

PART SEVEN

Alexander and his companions were laughing at Seleucus, who had angered the servant girl he was with just that afternoon.

"How was I to know she would be here tonight?" said Seleucus, holding his hands up, making his friends laugh.

"And to catch you eyeing up tomorrow's conquest," Ptolemy replied, acting outraged. "Life just is not fair is it, Seleucus?"

Seleucus looked at Ptolemy as if he had found his soul mate. "No. No it isn't," he said quietly.

Ptolemy burst into fresh laughter. Seleucus, realising he was only joking, walked off. "I will come back when you are willing to show me the respect I deserve," he said, turning to grin at them as he headed off to placate the servant girl.

"What is the joke?"

All turned to see Agathon, taking Seleucus' place, by Alexander.

"One which was funnier if you were here to see it," said Perdiccas.

Agathon looked around to see that Hephaistion was across the hall, talking to Eumenes. He called for a servant to bring him wine, taking the cup and drinking from it. He could see Philip talking with Parmenion, Cleitus and Attalus, and remembered how his father had failed to gain Philip's favour. He looked at Alexander. He would not fail.

"Is that kohl you are wearing?" asked Perdiccas.

Agathon looked down, suddenly afraid that he had left himself open for comparison with Hephaistion. "I often wear it," he lied, looking at Perdiccas.

"I have never seen you wearing it before," Perdiccas replied.

"I never bothered at Mieza, but at my home…elsewhere, I have worn it then." Agathon blushed. It had taken him ages to apply; that was why he was late. He glanced at Alexander, who was in conversation with Ptolemy.

He looked around the hall. They all thought him insignificant. Yet tomorrow evening they would all be gathered here, talking about Hephaistion's murder, not knowing that he had ordered it. He smiled with that knowledge, wrapped it around himself like a blanket. He didn't mind when Hephaistion returned to the table and Alexander rose to go to him. Alexander should enjoy his last few moments with Hephaistion, what was it to him now to be jealous of a dead man?

He drank down his cup of wine, closing his eyes, enjoying its flavour. When he put the cup down and looked around once more, Alexander and Hephaistion were gone.

"Where is Alexander?" he asked. "How late is it?"

Nobody replied. Agathon stood.

"Agathon. You have only just arrived, are you leaving?" It was Cassander.

"I do not feel well," Agathon lied, once more, smiling at how easily the lies could roll off his tongue.

"Philotas, Demetrius and I are going gambling. Do you want to come?"

"No. I shall go back to my quarters."

"Fair enough. See you in the morning," said Cassander.

Agathon made his way from the hall. However, instead of heading to his quarters, he headed for the stables and fetched his horse. He pushed it into a canter so that the guards would not have a chance to ask him where he was going. He only had a vague idea himself.

Fortunately, the road was moonlit; he could still discern familiar shapes. He rode on for roughly a stade, before seeing a campfire in the distance. He headed for it to find Admetus and Piraeus, enjoying their own banquet, having caught some rabbit.

Admetus had reached for his sword. Admetus the soldier, Piraeus, always in his father's service.

"It is only me," whispered Agathon.

"There is nobody to hear you," replied Admetus. "No need to whisper. Were you afraid that we had gone with your money?"

Piraeus laughed.

"What is so funny?" snapped Agathon. He was tired of people laughing at him.

"Do you know yet when we can perform our task for you?" asked Admetus, throwing Piraeus a look, to warn him to be quiet.

"That is what I am here for," Agathon replied. Despite Admetus' assurances, despite knowing that they were alone, he could not resist looking over his shoulder before he spoke. "Alexander has asked that Hephaistion ride Bucephalus tomorrow. He will be alone…I'm sure of it. The black stallion is like no other."

"And this Hephaistion?"

"Has long dark hair, eyes of blue."

Admetus nodded, smiling. "And he is Alexander's favourite."

"Until tomorrow. Take care not to get blood on your clothing…or if you do wash it out before my father, or anyone else can see."

"Do not worry. This is not the first time we have been paid to kill. We have not been found yet…and we may not return to your father's house."

"But where will I find you?"

"There are always men like us, Agathon. You will always find someone who will kill for money."

"But you are my friends."

"And we always will be, Agathon," said Piraeus. "Do not worry yourself. We will return one day, I'm sure. Just make sure you get the power you crave so badly, and then remember the service we did you, and grant us comfortable lives until the end of our days."

"With our own servants," added Admetus. He reached up to touch Agathon; Piraeus did the same.

"Just kill him for me," Agathon said, backing his horse up, before turning it back on the road he had come.

PART EIGHT

Hephaistion nestled into the pillow, his arm draped across Alexander. He opened his eyes to see Alexander looking at him…smiling at him.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"It's good to wake with you by my side, Hephaistion. That is all."

Hephaistion smiled, and lifted himself up on to his elbow so that he could see Alexander more clearly. "I would love to be with you every night, Alexander, but we must take care, and I am expected to be at the barracks some of the time."

"Perhaps I will spend some of my nights there with you, if you can not come to me here."

Hephaistion pulled a face.

"What is it?"

"Your bed is far more comfortable than my own. Alexander. I doubt that you would sleep."

"I did not intend sleeping," grinned Alexander. He sighed, and reached a hand up to stroke Hephaistion's hair. Hephaistion leaned his head into the caress, closing his eyes.

"I love you, Hephaistion."

Hephaistion opened his eyes to gaze on Alexander. "What did you say?"

Alexander tilted his head to the side, and smiled. "That I love you."

Hephaistion grinned. "I heard you the first time, Alexander. I just needed to hear you say it again. You know that I feel the same?"

"Then say it."

Hephaistion blushed. "I love you, Alexander. I love you with all of my heart and soul. Until death."

"No, Hephaistion. We will love each other beyond death…I am sure of it."

"Like Achilles and Patroclus?"

"You are my Patroclus," said Alexander.

"And you are my Achilles…my Alexander," whispered Hephaistion, seductively, leaning forward to kiss Alexander, running his free hand along Alexander's chest.

Alexander responded to the kiss. He was already aroused from watching Hephaistion sleep, knowing he would love him once more when he awoke.

PART NINE

Admetus and Piraeus had been watching the road from Pella since the break of day. Agathon had directed them, told them that this was where the boy they were to kill would come.

So far only a group of horsemen had emerged, and fortunately they had headed in the opposite direction.

They had debated over the best way to kill the boy. They needed to get close as they only had a sword and dagger between them. Once they were done they intended to make their way to Thebes, to find work there, perhaps go to Athens.

Piraeus lay back, picking up some small stones, throwing them in the air and attempting to catch them on the back of his hand. He quickly grew bored with the game, and reached for his dagger. Looking at Admetus, he felt sure his friend would do the killing as he always had before.

"We do not have enough money to go to Thebes," he said.

"Yes we do. If we kill our own food along the way, only buy cheap wine."

"We had it comfortable with Archelaus. Tell me again why we have to leave?"

"You, yourself said you were tired with the place," replied Admetus. "You are the one who is always whining on how you want to leave."

Piraeus shrugged his shoulders. "I don't remember."

"Well, I want to go to Thebes. You can go back to Archelaus if you like."

Piraeus gathered up some more stones, and began his game again. Admetus kept watch on the road.

The sun rose higher in the sky before Admetus nudged Piraeus, making him drop the stones.

"Hey!" he complained.

"Move yourself, I think I see the boy."

Piraeus rolled on to his belly and crawled up the small incline to peer down at the road. A lone rider was headed their way, on a handsome black stallion.

"He's coming our way, too," Piraeus noted. "Like a lamb to the slaughter."

Admetus nodded. He was studying the boy. "You say we need more money. How about we go to Thermia first?"

"Thermia? What for?"

"Look at the boy. It is no wonder he is Alexander's favourite."

Piraeus squinted his eyes, to take a better look. The boy was handsome. He looked at Admetus.

"Agathon only wants him out of the way," said Admetus.

"He wants him dead."

"If we take him alive, and sell him to a merchant in Thermia, who will take him to Persia…"

Piraeus smiled. "He is as good as dead, and we are better off for it." Piraeus thought a moment, and then nodded his head. "I am with you, Admetus."

"Right. Fetch your horse. We must follow…wait for our chance."

PART TEN

Hephaistion rode Bucephalus at a canter up the hill. Alexander loved him. That was all he had on his mind, all that he could hear, could see, when he closed his eyes.

He felt as though he would burst with happiness. To hear Alexander say the words he had been longing to hear. He always knew it in his heart, but Alexander had confirmed it.

He trotted along a path and reined Bucephalus in, turning to look back at Pella. Somewhere in the city was Alexander. He wondered if Alexander was thinking of him. He laughed out loud to himself. He was loved.

He stroked Bucephalus' neck. "We love a great man, Bucephalus," he said. He took a final look at Pella, before gathering the reins and pushing Bucephalus forward into a gallop. The stallion leaped forward, gathering pace with each stride.

Hephaistion headed to the river. He decided to let Bucephalus cool himself down in the water. He trotted along a narrow path, overshadowed on one side by a high rock ledge, and guided the stallion down a slope and into the water. He let the reins go slack so that Bucephalus could drink.

Hephaistion closed his eyes, seeing Alexander. He smiled as he remembered the way that Alexander had shown his love this morning. They had promised to meet again that night. Hephaistion would leave the barracks once it got dark, and go to Alexander once more.

He felt Bucephalus lift his head and snort. Opening his eyes, he saw the horse had his ears erect, listening.

"What is it, Bucephalus?" asked Hephaistion, stroking the horse's neck to soothe him. He listened as well, but could hear nothing.

Bucephalus snorted again. Hephaistion gathered up the reins as the stallion turned in the water. Now Hephaistion could hear the sound of a rider approaching. He looked across to the opposite bank. If he needed to escape, the river was too deep to cross. He looked up at the slope. He could be ambushed easily. He had been too happy to think of Alexander, he had not realised he was putting himself in possible danger.

A man appeared, and rode along the same path as Hephaistion. Hephaistion noted the dagger on his belt. Hephaistion was unarmed.

"Forgive me, I don't mean to startle you," said the man. "My horse needs water. I saw you come this way and thought that you might know a watering place." The man reined his horse in, blocking Hephaistion's exit, making no move to let his horse drink.

"Do not let me stop you," said Hephaistion.

The man nodded, making no effort to move. "That is a fine animal."

Hephaistion feared the man would try to take Bucephalus. He looked to the far bank once more.

"What are you afraid of?"

Hephaistion turned to look at the man. "Where are you from?"

The man smiled. "Gephria. Look, I just want to let my horse drink. I'd be obliged if you would bring your horse out of the river. If you wait just there, I can ride by to the river. Then, you will be free, to go where you will."

Hephaistion looked to where the man pointed. To a ledge, under a rocky overhang. Bucephalus seemed uneasy, but Hephaistion thought he might be picking up his own concerns. He could either stay in the river, or believe that the stranger could be trusted. He rode Bucephalus out of the river, turning him to face the stranger.

The stranger made as if to advance. Hephaistion saw him glance up to the rocky overhang. He looked up, and saw a man about to jump. The next thing he was in the river, having been knocked off Bucephalus by the second man.

The man held him, as they disappeared under the water. Hephaistion felt the man's hand around his throat, felt the man struggling to get to his feet, while dragging Hephaistion with him.

As they surfaced, Hephaistion gasped for air, and the man eased the pressure on his neck, but still held him firmly. Once more he was held under water, then pulled to the surface. All in a moment, Hephaistion saw the man's sword drawn; saw the first man, now dismounted, running to Bucephalus.

He heard a yell, as the second man turned him around, pulling his arms behind him. At the yell the second man pushed Hephaistion forward, so that he fell on to his stomach, his head hitting the stones on the riverbank. "Piraeus, you idiot!" the second man cried.

"Piraeus!" yelled Admetus. He had told the man to leave the stallion. That they could not sell a horse like that, or keep a horse like that, without drawing attention to themselves. The boy was a fighter. He was struggling to secure him, turning to see where his friend was, when he saw the stallion turn and kick out. Piraeus fell, screaming, holding his leg.

Hephaistion tried to struggle up, but he felt the man's knee on his back holding him down. "Let me go," he cried, coughing up some water from the river. Rope. The man was tying his hands. Hephaistion fought for some purchase, so that he could stand, break free.

Admetus reached for more rope from his belt. He lifted the boy's head by his hair, and hit it hard on to the rocks, stunning him enough so that he could tie his feet. He turned the boy over so that he could closely inspect his prize. The boy was struggling to stay conscious. He was handsome…his eyes so blue, as if the Gods had made them from the finest sapphires. He smiled at his luck, and then went to see to Piraeus.

"My leg…my leg," whimpered Piraeus.

"I told you to leave the horse," snapped Admetus. "Why do you never listen? The boy is prize enough for us. I have him now. You should see him."

Piraeus smiled, and then grimaced in pain. "We will do well with him?"

"Very well," Admetus replied, examining his friend's leg. "Your leg is broken, I can see the bone pushing through the skin, Piraeus. This is nothing I can fix," he said.

Piraeus grimaced. "Then get me to a surgeon."

Admetus shook his head. "The only surgeon would be at Pella. We have to go to Thermia."

"Not now, Admetus. We must kill the boy, I need help."

Admetus thought a moment. "He would fetch a good price."

"We can take another, when I am well," argued Piraeus.

Admetus stood up and went back to the river. He grabbed Hephaistion's chiton and dragged him up to where Piraeus lay. "Look at the boy," he ordered Piraeus.

Piraeus looked.

"Where can we find another that will fetch his price?"

"I do not know," replied Piraeus, crying in pain. "Then leave me in Pella, I will not say anything. Take the boy to Thermia. Do what you will. When I am well, we will go to Thebes."

"You are crippled, Piraeus."

Fear flashed across Piraeus' face. "Do not leave me here," he cried. "For pity's sake, Admetus. Kill the boy. Help your friend."

Admetus drew his sword. Piraeus gave a sigh of relief. "It is for the best, Admetus," he said.

"You should not have tried to take the horse," said Admetus, raising his sword and bringing it down into Piraeus' heart.

Blood sprayed on to Bucephalus, who snorted and paced on the spot. Admetus was turning, the sword still raised.

"Home, Bucephalus! Go home!" yelled Hephaistion, seeing death in Admetus' eyes. It was a trick that Alexander had been teaching the stallion. Bucephalus would go to his stable. Hephaistion prayed his voice would have the same effect. It did. Bucephalus did not hesitate, leaping over Hephaistion and taking off at a gallop along the track.

"Why you…" Admetus kicked out at Hephaistion, then regained his senses. He laughed, and looked on Hephaistion, pointing his bloody sword at him, nodding towards Piraeus' body. "He was my friend. Think how easily I will kill you, if you cause me trouble." He turned back to Piraeus' body, now lying in a pool of blood. He bent to remove the dagger before pushing it with his foot, and the corpse rolled over the edge and into the river, to be carried away by the current, to the sea.

"Why are you doing this?" Hephaistion asked.

Admetus had been watching Piraeus' body disappear from sight. He turned back to Hephaistion. "Someone wanted you dead. You get the better deal…you get to live."

Hephaistion stared at Admetus, then looked at his horse, and that of Piraeus. "I know you," he said. "I saw you yesterday with Agathon."

Admetus grinned. "You saw us?"

Hephaistion nodded, wincing at the discomfort it caused. "Money changed hands…he was paying you."

"To kill you? Yes. However, we realised that we could sell you at Thermia, for a really good price…and now I do not have to share. Agathon will think we killed you…and you will be in Persia."

Hephaistion's head span with the knowledge that he was to be sold into slavery. He knew now why he was still alive…they had wanted him alive. He had to think fast to save himself.

"How much do you expect to get?" he asked.

Admetus thought for a moment. "Perhaps a couple of hundred drachm, maybe more."

Hephaistion didn't have that amount of money. "I could pay you it…if you release me," he said.

Admetus shook his head. "You are no hostage…you are simply my prisoner. I will take what I can get at Thermia. Agathon wants you out of the way, so he can have a clear path to Alexander. I will not fail him on that. I would kill you before I take money to let you return and ruin his plans."

"He does not intend to harm Alexander?" Hephaistion asked.

"No," smiled Admetus. "He means to take your place. No more questions, now. We must move before they discover you are missing." Once more, he threatened Hephaistion with his sword. "You will ride Piraeus' horse," he said. "Do not give me cause to think you are too much trouble." He put away the sword, and pulled out the dagger, cutting the ropes holding Hephaistion's feet.

He pulled Hephaistion up and lifted him on to the horse, taking the reins and pulling them over the horse's head. Then he leapt on to his own horse, leading the other, intent on covering as much ground as he could before dark.

PART ELEVEN

Agathon rubbed his sweating palms on his chiton. He had seen Hephaistion leave on Bucephalus, and he had not returned, although enough time had passed. He wondered how the news would break. Surely someone would find Hephaistion's body, or Bucephalus. They would ride to Pella for help…ride to the barracks. How long would he have to wait?

He was standing in the courtyard, trying not to pace, talking with Perdiccas and Cassander, who sat before him. They were waiting for Ptolemy to join them.

A shout went up from a guard at the gate. Agathon turned, his heart beating faster. He must remember to stay calm, act as surprised as the others, not give himself away.

It was only a merchant. The guard must have known him; it was just a greeting.

"Has anyone seen Seleucus?" Ptolemy asked as he appeared from the barracks.

"In the kitchen," smiled Perdiccas.

Agathon wanted to mention Hephaistion. Why did nobody ask? He heard a horse approaching at a gallop. Turning once more, to the gate, he saw it was Cleitus. He watched him ride to the stables and dismount.

He had just turned back, to attempt to hold a conversation with Cassander, hoping it would calm him, when another horse was heard. Agathon could not look for fear of further disappointment. An urgent shout erupted across the barracks.

"Bucephalus," said Ptolemy, before breaking into a run across to the stables, where Cleitus had caught the stallion's bridle.

The others ran too, and Agathon went with them, careful to stand back, to hear what was said.

Cleitus was soothing the horse. He saw Ptolemy first. "Who was riding him?"

"Hephaistion," Ptolemy replied, quickly.

"There is blood on him. Hold him for me."

Ptolemy stepped forward and took the reins, while Cleitus examined the stallion.

"The blood is not from him," said Cleitus, looking grim. "How long has Hephaistion been gone? Where does he ride?"

The friends looked at each other. "He left late morning. I saw him," said Agathon.

"He rides where he chooses," added Perdiccas.

"And was he alone?"

"Yes," answered Agathon, remembering how happy he had been to see Hephaistion leave.

Seleucus came running over. "What is it? What is going on?"

Perdiccas replied. "Bucephalus has returned alone. Hephaistion is missing, and there is blood."

"Alexander…" whispered Ptolemy.

"I will go find him," said Cleitus.

"No. I'll tell him," Ptolemy replied, turning and running as fast as he could.

PART TWELVE

Alexander had been with his father all morning. Philip wanted to know more of what Aristotle had taught his son, and also add some of his own advice. He was impressed with the change in Alexander, as he thought; the separation from his mother's influence had done the boy some good. He was his own person, at last.

Philip had shared his own philosophies with Alexander, but took time to laugh and joke. The love between them had always been a tenuous thing at best, but with time, with Olympias subdued, things could improve.

"So what do you hope for?" asked Philip.

Alexander was about to answer, when he heard a disturbance with the guards outside. Heard Ptolemy calling for him. He looked at his father, then hurried to open the doors, to find the guards trying to prevent Ptolemy from entering.

"Leave him!" snapped Alexander. "He is my friend."

The guards stepped back, and Ptolemy hurried to Alexander. He stared at him, not knowing how to tell him. Alexander was smiling, joking as to what could be so urgent. When he saw that Ptolemy did not smile back, he put his hands on Ptolemy's shoulders and asked for him to say at once what the matter was.

Ptolemy took a deep breath. "Hephaistion is missing."

He saw the words strike Alexander like an arrow. He continued, aware that Philip was standing by Alexander, his hand on his son's shoulder. "He took Bucephalus out this morning…as usual…like yesterday. Bucephalus just returned alone."

Alexander smiled. "So? Hephaistion has fallen. That will be something to joke about when he returns, footsore and weary."

Ptolemy shook his head. "No. Alexander, he is hurt at best. Bucephalus has blood on his shoulder, but Cleitus examined him, the blood is not his."

The smile dropped from Alexander's face. He stepped back, looked to his father, and then ran from the room. Ptolemy followed, knowing he was heading for the stables. He heard Philip shouting orders, as he ran.

When Alexander got to Bucephalus, Parmenion had joined Cleitus. Alexander said nothing but went to his horse, seeing the blood. He took the reins from Cleitus, his only thought to find Hephaistion, gathering them up he leaped on to Bucephalus' back.

Philip arrived on his horse, his guard with him. "Alexander! Wait! He ordered. "You will not go alone." He checked to see that Alexander had reined in Bucephalus before speaking. "Parmenion, get the cavalry organised. I want every piece of land within five stadia of the palace searched. Cleitus, come with us."

Ptolemy stepped over to Alexander. "We will search to the south, Alexander."

Alexander nodded, then anxiously looked to his father, before glancing at the blood on Bucephalus' shoulder.

Philip understood Alexander's haste, but knew that the search should be planned if it were to be effective. He worried that it was Hephaistion. He knew how much the boy meant to his son; Aristotle had kept him well informed.

"Let's go," called Philip, watching Alexander head off at a gallop, and spurring his own horse on to follow.

PART THIRTEEN

Admetus seemed to know the tracks, which were seldom used; he kept away from main routes, not stopping to rest, but anxious to make as much distance as he could from Pella.

Hephaistion knew that Thermia was not far. Just over a day's ride…or less than a day if you travelled as Admetus did. He did not see how Admetus could succeed in his plan. It was one thing to travel across country, but Thermia was a busy port; both Greek and Persian ships arrived daily. Men loyal to Philip guarded it; he would be able to get help. Then Admetus would be punished and he would return to Pella, to Alexander's arms.

"Are we not to rest?" asked Hephaistion.

Admetus looked back at Hephaistion. "Not yet."

"You have done this before? Sold a man."

Admetus nodded. "A couple of times. The first time it was for spite. The second time I needed money."

"So you took someone?"

"My wife," Admetus laughed. "I'd loved her once, but I never missed her once she'd gone."

"And who was the first?"

"Someone Piraeus despised. A long time ago now. I fought in the army for a while after that…then sought out Piraeus once more. We were a good team."

They rode on in silence, for a while, Hephaistion absorbing the information and shocked that Admetus could sell his wife, a woman he admitted to having loved, so easily.

"You intend for me to go to Persia?" he asked.

"Yes."

"But if I tell them who I am…"

"Should I cut your tongue out?" Admetus asked. Seeing the look on Hephaistion's face, he laughed. "Those that can understand Greek, will believe that you lie to save yourself. However, if they knew the truth they would not care who you are, so long as you do the work they ask. A slave is nothing…and you have always been something, I suppose."

Admetus picked up the pace once more, but a few stadia on, Piraeus' horse went lame. Admetus dismounted his own horse, and pulled Hephaistion from the lame horse's back, so he fell on to the ground.

"Do not try anything," he warned, before checking the injury. He sighed, and shook his head. He removed the bag and blanket from the horse's back, before removing the bridle, abandoning the horse. Then he busied himself with sorting through the bag, for what he needed and what he could discard.

Admetus was distracted by his task. Hephaistion sat up, and pushed himself back a little. He watched Admetus, who did not notice. He looked around, deciding where he should run; no direction looked promising, and Admetus had a horse. Still, he had to try or he would regret it if he didn't. Checking that Admetus was still distracted he pushed himself to his feet and began to run.

He heard Admetus shout, but dared not look back. It slowed him, having his arms tied behind his back, but the thought of escape spurred him on. The ground was rocky, it was hard to keep his balance; he couldn't hear Admetus for the sound of his heart. Fearing he was right behind him, he ran to the left, down a small incline, hoping to find a better track. He stumbled, falling to his knees, but got to his feet, not able to resist glancing over his shoulder. Admetus was right behind him. He ran forward, but Admetus dived at his feet and pulled him to the ground, moving quickly to hold Hephaistion by lying on top of him.

Hephaistion struggled. Admetus put his hands around Hephaistion's neck, choking the life from him.

"I told you not to try anything," Admetus snapped. "Now you'll learn."

Hephaistion dug his heels into the ground, attempting to push himself along, to free himself from Admetus' grip.

"Keep still!" snapped Admetus, releasing his grip. "Am I to kill you? I warned you that I would if you caused me trouble. Now get up!"

Hephaistion struggled to his knees. Admetus pulled him to his feet and pushed him along the track back to the horse. Keeping a hold on Hephaistion, Admetus reached into the bag and brought out a rope, already fashioned into a noose. He put the rope over Hephaistion's head, around his neck, pulling it tight. "From now on, you walk," he said.

He put the bag over his horse's back, before leaping up on to it, himself. He pushed the horse on, the rope went tight and Hephaistion was forced to walk alongside.

PART FOURTEEN

When Alexander realised the futility in a random search, he suggested they start their search at the river, knowing Hephaistion would often ride there. Cleitus saw a glimmer of hope in the prince's eyes. It was just a question of where to search.

As they got to the river, Philip instructed two of his guard to ride as far as they could along the river to the left, saying that he, Cleitus, Alexander and the other guards would go right. This way they could check the area quickly.

It still took time, though. They were looking for blood, tracks, and any sign that Hephaistion might have travelled there.

Alexander was quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself. He was longing to hear a shout, that they had found Hephaistion. In the distance he could see groups of cavalry searching. What if Cleitus was wrong? He had to trust the man was right. He wanted to scream Hephaistion's name, but his upbringing held him in check. Only with Hephaistion had he ever, truly lowered his barriers. Hephaistion was showing him how to be who he truly was.

A narrow track led down to the river, too narrow for two horses to go down. Cleitus went alone, the other's moving along the high bank. A shout went up. Cleitus had found something…found Hephaistion.

Alexander turned Bucephalus and cantered down the track, seeing Cleitus, now dismounted, crouched down. He looked for Hephaistion, but could not see him. He jumped down from Bucephalus and ran over to Cleitus, seeing the blood.

Cleitus had touched it, examined it. "It is fresh," he said, looking at Alexander.

"What is it? Have you found the boy?"

Alexander turned to see his father running down the track, his limp more noticeable on the rough terrain.

"Blood. I found blood," replied Cleitus. He checked the ground. "There are hoof prints, signs of a struggle, then there is blood on the rock here," he said, pointing to a rock on the edge of the river. "I guess that somebody pushed a body into the river."

"It does not mean it was Hephaistion," whispered Alexander.

Cleitus stood up. "He was here, Alexander. Bucephalus has a split in the hoof on his right foreleg. Not much, but he marks the ground. He was here, which means Hephaistion was here. I do not know why anyone would want to do harm. Perhaps it was for Bucephalus."

Alexander shook his head. "It is not his blood. Or if it is, he is hurt somewhere, and we must find him." He looked to his father, then back to Cleitus, seeing them giving up hope. "I will find him," he said. "I will show you. He cannot be dead. He can not." He ran to Bucephalus, and leaped on to him.

Philip grabbed the reins. "Alexander!" He hesitated; his voice was too harsh. He softened it before he spoke again. "If you need to search further, then I will come with you. I will ride with you as long as it takes. However, you should consider that Hephaistion might be dead…a victim of some foul deed…for which I will see the perpetrators punished by death." He put his hand on Alexander's knee, and looked up to see the tears in Alexander's eyes, a slight acceptance of the fact his friend had gone. "You need to search?"

Alexander nodded, unable to speak.

"Cleitus. Go and tell the guard to return to Pella. You, I and Alexander will continue."

Cleitus led his horse up the track, leading it in a wide arc around Bucephalus. He then mounted and went back over the incline and out of sight.

Philip stayed by Alexander's side. He looked about. "It is a place ideal for an ambush. Hephaistion could not have been thinking of the danger."

"Without him I do not know who I am. He is the only one I trust. I do not know who I will be without him," said Alexander.

"Keep him in your heart, Alexander. Always remember him."

Alexander looked at his father. "You know that I love…that I loved him?"

Philip squeezed his son's leg. "I may only have one eye, but I am not blind, Alexander," he said, limping up the track to fetch his horse.

PART FIFTEEN

As it grew dark, Admetus finally decided to stop for the night. He had been determined to cover as much ground as he could, even with the boy having to run to keep up.

Admetus pushed Hephaistion over to a tree, and tied him to it securely. Then he saw to the horse, and took a drink of water from a goatskin. He walked over to the boy and let him drink. The boy needed to rest. They were not far from Thermia; Admetus sniffed the air, thinking he could smell the sea.

He fetched the bag and blanket and tied up his horse. Reaching into the bag he brought out some cheese wrapped in a cloth, and cut a slice with the dagger. He looked over at Hephaistion. "I should share," he said.

Hephaistion did not reply, he felt too tired to eat. He tried to make himself comfortable, closing his eyes, allowing his hands to try the ropes. He would have been missed by now. Alexander would be worried for him. Would Agathon be there to offer comfort? Was that his plan? It had to be. Agathon. Hephaistion had not had time to consider that it was Agathon who was responsible for his predicament. That Agathon had paid to have him killed.

Well, he lived. He lived, and he would find Alexander again. See Agathon punished. He took the hope, of being reunited, and held it close, then drifted off to a restless sleep.

PART SIXTEEN

Parmenion waited in the palace courtyard with Attalus and Antipater.

As dusk fell, he had ordered the cavalry back to barracks. The King's bodyguard had returned earlier, and reported that blood had been found, that they believed Hephaistion to have been murdered.

Parmenion was furious that they would have left the King, but they had only done so on the King's orders. He understood that Philip would want to be alone with his son, to offer what comfort he could. It was the first time Alexander had lost someone dear…it would not be the last.

At least Philip had the sense to keep Cleitus with him. He could be trusted in a fight, but now it was dark and the King and heir were missing. He began to pace, once more, leaving Attalus and Antipater to their quiet discussion. He had only taken ten steps when a guard called out that the King had returned.

He hurried to the gate, Antipater and Attalus following.

Philip and Cleitus flanked Alexander, who rode with his head bowed. Alexander's friends ran over, but held back from touching or talking to Alexander, sensing his need for solitude. His grief was tangible.

Philip shook his head at Parmenion. Cleitus pulled his horse up and watched as father and son rode on to the palace. As they dismounted a groom ran up to take the horses. Philip reached for Alexander, but Alexander pulled away and ran into the palace.

He ran to his room, slamming the door behind him, not needing anyone…just one…just one they had searched for and had not found. "Hephaistion," Alexander cried, sinking to his knees. How was he to live without Hephaistion?

PART SEVENTTEN

Hephaistion awoke, well before sunrise. Admetus was sleeping, wrapped up from the cool night air, in a blanket. Hephaistion wondered where he would be by the next sunrise. He still hoped that he could get help in Thermia. Somebody would surely help him.

He flexed his hands, and moved his shoulders. They ached; he had been tied for so long. He was hungry, thirsty and tired…and cold. He shivered, envying Admetus his blanket, and that he looked as though he was comfortable. That he had his freedom.

His thoughts turned to Agathon. How had he caused Agathon to despise him so much that he would want him dead? Was it simply because of his friendship with Alexander? Was that all it was? If Agathon knew that through his friendship he did not mean to gain honour. All he ever wanted was time with Alexander, but not in a possessive way, just to be with him.

Admetus began to wake. Hephaistion tested the ropes, although he knew he could not free himself. They would reach Thermia today, and if Admetus had his way he would be on a ship to Persia before the sun set. Panic gripped Hephaistion, he could not go so far from Alexander. If he could not find help in Thermia he was lost.

Admetus woke. He looked over at Hephaistion, and laughed. "I heard you move," he said. "I thought at first you were Piraeus, then I remembered."

"He was a good friend to you?"

Admetus nodded. "Yes, he was."

"Alexander is a good friend to me."

Admetus studied Hephaistion. "Forget him."

"Will you forget Piraeus?"

"It does not do to dwell on the past, boy. The Gods plan our lives. Do not blame me if your life has gone from one of comfort and friendship, to hardship and solitude. It is the Gods you should blame."

"No, it's Agathon who caused this."

Ademetus sat up. He laughed, and looked at Hephaistion. "Will he take your place?"

"He and Alexander are not close," Hephaistion replied, telling the truth. "Alexander has many friends."

"Who hope to benefit some day, when Alexander is King…"

"Not all." Hephaistion coughed. "Alexander has the ability to see the truth in men."

Admetus stood and fetched the bag and goatskin, bringing it over to Hephaistion. "What is it like to know a prince?" he asked.

"A prince is like any other man. Alexander is my friend because of who he is, not what he is. If Alexander were a poor man's son it would be the same."

"Here, drink," said Admetus, holding the goatskin to Hephaistion's lips.

Hephaistion slaked his thirst, looking gratefully at Admetus. "Thank you," he said, once he had drunk his fill. Then hoping that Admetus might listen, he decided to appeal to him once more. "Do not take me to Thermia. I give you my word I will say nothing, and I will bring whatever I have of value so that you can sell it. I will say nothing of Agathon…nothing."

Admetus cut some cheese and pushed a piece into Hephaistion's mouth so that he could eat. "Nobody has ever earned my trust. What does your word mean to me?" He cut more cheese and pushed that into Hephaistion's mouth, before he could swallow the first. "Two hundred drachm would be a good price, more money than I ever had…when you put it with the money Agathon paid us to kill you. When you are gone to Persia there will be no chance that you will ever return, ever change your mind and talk." He held the goatskin up to Hephaistion's lips so he could drink some more, and wash the cheese down.

"My word is good," said Hephaistion, when he could speak again.

"Nothing will change my mind," said Admetus. "Now do as I say, we must be gone."

PART EIGHTEEN

Philip had spent a sleepless night worrying for his son. He had seen Alexander's hope become despair.

He wished that they had found Hephaistion's body. Alexander would be able to stand at the pyre then, and say farewell to this boy who meant so much to him. Grieve and move on…make new friends…as he had done.

He had lost count of the friends he had lost. Not all through death. Some revealed themselves for what they were; some moved on. For Philip, friendship was not a constant thing. Even love never stayed the same.

He remembered how he had loved Olympias at first, hating her now with the same passion. He thought for a moment on when that love, that blinding love, had turned to hate. When Alexander was born? No. He was happy then. That was right. She had turned against him. Accusing him of looking at a girl at court…a girl whose name he could not even remember. Then she had taken Alexander…taken his son…and poisoned his mind.

"Alexander." Philip whispered his son's name. Picturing him at Mieza, his friends around him. That was the time he had begun to hope that for all Olympias' efforts, Alexander was still his son.

He remembered Hephaistion then, laughing with Alexander. His son had seemed truly happy; as he had turned and seen his father, his smile had not faltered. He had wrapped his arm around Hephaistion and pulled him close, in comradeship. No…it was more than comradeship…more than he had ever known.

He walked to Alexander's rooms. He had instructed the guards that Olympias was not to trouble her son. He knew her; knew she would strike when Alexander was weak, try to fill him with her poison once more.

The guards let him pass. He stopped outside the door, and hesitated, before knocking quietly. "Alexander," he said, and waited for a reply. None came, and in a sudden fear of what Alexander might have done, he opened the door and went in.

Alexander was lying on his bed, still wearing the clothes he had on the day before. He held a pillow close to him, and although his eyes were open, he was lost in thought.

"Alexander," whispered Philip, approaching slowly, not wishing to startle his son.

Alexander looked on his father, but said nothing.

Philip sat on the edge of the bed, and put his hand on Alexander's leg. Anecdotes came to mind, of the friends he had lost. He might have used them to comfort, but they seemed inappropriate at that moment. Instead he chose silence to convey his sorrow for Alexander's loss.

PART NINETEEN

"There is Thermia," said Admetus, reining in his horse and taking up the goatskin for a drink.

Hephaistion looked up at him, hoping he too might get to quench his thirst, but the goatskin was empty. He turned to take in the sight of Thermia stretched out before him. The sea, a bright blue, seemed full of sailing ships, the houses all-clustering around the harbour. He turned back to look in the direction of Pella.

Admetus pulled the noose, forcing Hephaistion close to his horse. He reached into the bag, bringing out an old chiton, ripping a piece of cloth from it. He tied a knot in the strip of cloth, and then discarding the chiton, gagged Hephaistion with the remainder.

Hephaistion began to choke, his throat already dry, the fabric soaked up whatever moisture was left. Admetus grabbed his hair and turned his face up to his own. "You thought I would let you cry for help?" he laughed. "Stop your coughing…now!"

Hephaistion put his head against the horse's shoulder, and rubbed his cheek against it, lowering the gag a little, allowing him to breath somewhat easier. It did not last for long. Admetus kicked his horse on, the noose tightened and Hephaistion was forced to keep up. With every step he was running out of hope…with every step he was leaving all he loved behind.

PART TWENTY

"Alexander?" The call was whispered. "Alexander?"

Ptolemy, Perdiccas and Seleucus entered the room. Walking quietly, as if not sure of their welcome. Alexander was alone, sitting upright on his bed.

"Tell us to go if you wish," said Perdiccas.

Alexander shook his head.

"Your father thought you might want us with you," added Seleucus.

Alexander looked down; he had yet to look at his friends. "I can't stop thinking about him," he said, quietly. "He is all I see."

"He is gone, Alexander," replied Ptolemy, seating himself next to Alexander.

"I know," said Alexander, gazing up at each of his friend's in turn. He could see their grief; Seleucus had tears in his eyes. They loved him too; they missed him too. Grief made him mute and he looked back to the floor.

Perdiccas, Ptolemy and Seleucus looked at each other. They felt out of their depth to offer comfort, such was the pain in Alexander's eyes. They stayed silent, keeping watch. There was nothing they could say.

PART TWENTY-ONE

"Is he for sale?"

Admetus stopped and turned in the direction of the voice. A Greek merchant was walking over to him, pointing at the boy. "My master says he is to go to a Persian dealer," he replied.

"Is he trouble then?" The merchant was inspecting Hephaistion. He pointed at the gag.

"More trouble than he is worth," replied Admetus, leaning down to the merchant as if sharing a secret.

The merchant nodded his head. "That is a shame. I would have been interested."

Admetus smiled and rode on. He looked down at Hephaistion. "I never had such interest before," he said. "Perhaps two hundred drachm is too little. What do you say?" He paused, giving time for Hephaistion to reply. "Oh, that's right, you can't say anything," he laughed. He pulled the rope tighter, forcing Hephaistion to the horse's side, making it harder for him to struggle.

As they approached the harbour, Admetus dismounted and tied up his horse, throwing a coin at a young boy with orders to watch over the horse. He led Hephaistion along the docks, looking for a Persian ship, preferably preparing to sail on the next tide.

"Is he for sale…the boy?"

An elderly man approached. Persian. He examined Hephaistion like you would any other animal for sale.

"You will not find anything wrong with him," said Admetus, confidently, pulling on the noose to make Hephaistion submit to the examination.

"What is his name?"

"Piraeus," lied Admetus.

"Why is he gagged?"

"He talks too much…not that you could not teach him to be quiet, once in Persia. Just I had no time as we journeyed here."

The man stood back and looked at Hephaistion, who in turn, looked at Admetus, his eyes begging him not to go through with any sale.

"How much?"

"Three hundred drachm."

The man laughed and shook his head. "You must joke. I expect a profit from the boy, myself. I could not sell him for more than that."

"But he is worth that much to you?"

The man hesitated. "He is a fine slave, but something is not right. He has an air about him…nobility."

"He is nobody," replied Admetus.

The old man laughed. "I think that he is somebody. Why not remove the gag and let the boy speak?"

Admetus began to panic. Soldiers were walking by; they looked at him…looked at the boy. He pulled the noose even tighter. "If you do not want him, I will not waste your time," he said, turning down a narrow street. He looked at Hephaistion. "He is right. You are too good for this place…and there are too many soldiers. I thought that I could take my time, but I would be better off killing you now and cutting my losses than risk the questions I have to answer."

He pulled his dagger from his belt. Hesitating.

"It would be a waste…for both of us."

Admetus spun around. The old man had followed.

"My name is Darius…like the Great King," the man smiled, approaching with his hands outstretched. "Put away the knife, or we will both lose a fine profit. My ship is about to leave, I take it you want the boy gone?"

"Not at any price," snapped Admetus, putting the knife away and pulling Hephaistion forward. "He is worth three hundred."

Two men approached, speaking in their native tongue to Darius. He answered them and they stepped back. "My men will take the boy. I will give you two hundred and fifty drachm for him…and will ask you no more questions."

"You were listening."

Darius shrugged his shoulders. "I am a merchant. It pays me to know things." He reached for his purse and handed it to Admetus. "For the boy."

Hephaistion stepped back, looking at Darius' men, now reaching for him. He tried to speak, but Admetus had his eyes on the money, taking it greedily and handing the rope to the men. As soon as they had the rope, they held it tightly and grabbed for Hephaistion, who fought against them, digging his heels in the ground as they took him to their ship.

Two more men appeared; one of them took his legs. Darius spoke, the second man went down the narrow street, after Admetus.

They carried Hephaistion on to the ship, removing the ropes holding him, and replacing them with chains. Hephaistion's hands now held in front of him. After they forced him down some steps he found himself in the hold and was secured there.

Darius bent down and removed the gag. "I am sure your name is not Piraeus," he said. "But no matter."

One of Darius' men arrived, his hands wet with blood. He handed the purse back to Darius. "It seems your friend has had an unfortunate accident," he smiled, and stood to leave.

"Wait," called Hephaistion, coughing because his mouth was so dry. "I am worth more to you here."

Darius turned and bent forward again, this time holding Hephaistion's chin and drawing his head up. "I wouldn't count on that. I know many that will pay a King's ransom for you…Piraeus." Darius laughed. "Those blue eyes alone are worth sapphires."

He turned and left. Hephaistion called out, but his voice was unheard amongst the noise of the harbour, the noise of the ship preparing to set sail.

PART TWENTY-TWO

Alexander changed his clothes, choosing a black chiton. He left his room and hurried by the guards, knowing as soon as he had passed that they would alert his father.

He knew the quickest way to the stables, where he could go without drawing any unnecessary attention. He had just one thought in mind.

Bucephalus gave a low whinny in greeting, growing restless in his stable. Alexander fetched his bridle and put it on his horse, who lowered his head to accept the bit. Then leading the stallion out, he leaped on to his back and galloped away from the palace.

Agathon had been waiting for any sign of Alexander, angry that he had not been asked to go to Alexander's rooms with the others. He smiled as he saw Alexander, and fetched his own horse to follow. The guards at the gate were raising the alarm at seeing Alexander riding out alone.

Alexander headed for the river. The sun was beginning to set. He rode along the bank, looking for the track, which Hephaistion had gone down. When he found it, Alexander dismounted, letting go of the reins. He walked over to the patch of ground, stained red…with Hephaistion's blood…now dry.

His father had said that Hephaistion must not have been thinking of the danger. He had been distracted himself, while he was with his father. He had never known such love as that from Hephaistion. Did Hephaistion feel the same?

He looked down the river. They would never find Hephaistion's body but, even silent in death, he longed to see Hephaistion once more. He heard a noise, and pulled his dagger from his belt, feeling strangely joyful that Hephaistion's killer might have returned to finish the job.

It was Agathon.

"Alexander!" he called, as he hurried down the track. "Do not be angry that I followed. I care for your safety, that is all. What are you doing here?"

"Hephaistion died here," Alexander replied.

Agathon walked over and looked down at the blood. Hephaistion was dead, and he was alone with Alexander…how it should be. "His body can not be found?" he asked. He had hoped for a body. Surely, Admetus and Piraeus would have left it in sight.

Alexander shook his head. "We searched. Cleitus says that the murderer let him fall into the river."

"Murderers," Agathon corrected. Then on a look from Alexander. "Perhaps there were two…or three of them."

Alexander nodded, and looked down at the blood, tears filling his eyes. He looked at the dagger in his hands. He lifted it up to his head and began to slice through his hair, cutting it and letting it fall into the river.

"Alexander! No!" cried Agathon, but did not make a move to stop him.

"Down by the ships Patroclus' body lies unwept, unburied. I shall not forget him while I can keep my feet among the living. If in the dead world they forget the dead, I say there, too, I shall remember him, my friend."

"I do not understand."

Alexander did not stop from his task. "The Iliad. It is from The Iliad."

Agathon stood silent until Alexander placed the dagger back in his belt. He looked at Alexander, his golden hair now shorn, for Hephaistion. He thought himself a fool for ever embarking on this mission to make Alexander his true friend. He had not realised the strength of feeling Alexander had for his friend. Hephaistion had not gone; he would never be gone.

He smiled as an idea came to mind. "I did not know him well, Alexander. I wish I had. Would you tell me about him? I would like to know."

"Some were jealous of him," said Alexander.

"Why would they be?"

"Because he was my friend." Alexander sighed. "We were friends from the first, as if we had always known each other…in other lives." Alexander's eyes filled with tears once more. He brushed them away; he thought he had cried them all.

"Here," said Agathon, stepping forward and embracing Alexander. "Grieve for him, Alexander. I will stay with you. I am here for you now."

Alexander wrapped his arms around Agathon, needing the comfort. Things would never be the same; he had to move on.

PART TWENTY-THREE

Hephaistion's first step on Persian soil was as a slave.

They had arrived at a port, as busy as Thermia, but there the similarity ended. He was no longer in Macedonia. Calls rang out that he could not understand, the dress, the hair, the smells, all different now.

He did not know how long the journey had taken. He had been shut in the hold, where it was too dark to distinguish between night and day. He had been given water, and some bread to eat, and he had been able to sleep.

Once the ship had docked, light streamed into the hold. So strong that Hephaistion had to shield his eyes until they adjusted to it. Then Darius appeared, for the first time since Thermia, and watched over while one of his men shaved Hephaistion and washed his face.

Darius approved. "I want you in the Greek style, with a clean face," he said. "Nothing should hide your face."

He spoke to one of the guards, and they released Hephaistion and pulled him to his feet. He ached from inactivity, and stumbled forward as the guards pushed him towards the steps.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked.

"I am a merchant," Darius smiled. "I take you to where I can make a profit from you."

A guard pushed Hephaistion on to the deck, and along the gangplank to the dock. Hephaistion looked around, people passing by were looking at him with disinterest. Surely, they would have seen a Greek before. Darius intended selling him to some Persian who would expect him to work to survive. Hephaistion intended that once sold, he would seek to escape at the earliest opportunity. That was as far as his plan went, he did not like to think how he would ever find a boat back to Thermia.

Darius was on the ship, momentarily giving orders on how to unload his purchases. Guards appeared pushing along a young woman in chains, an elderly man and a boy about Hephaistion's age. They were guided to stand next to Hephaistion.

The young woman was crying; the elderly man distressed. Only the boy seemed accepting of his lot.

"I thought I was alone," said Hephaistion.

The boy looked around the dock, smiling. "Ships," he said.

"My name is Hephaistion."

"The boy is a fool," said the man. "Sold for it, though he can do simple tasks. My name is Telamonian. We have all been sold by the same master…I because of my age…Halie," he said, pointing at the young woman. "She cries too much."

"You were slaves before?"

Telamonian nodded his head. "You were not?"

"No."

"You were captured in battle?"

"No. I was taken from my home, from those I loved, for spite."

Telamonian shook his head. "Better they would have killed you then," he said. "At least we are used to a life of slavery," he explained. "We will survive, as we are used to hardships…but you…it will be harder on you. I pray you get a kind master."

"I wish the same for you, Telamonian."

Darius' men shouted and moved them away from the ship, leading them along through the city until they came to an open square. Darius was already there, talking to a couple of men, wearing expensive silks. Seeing his men arrive he shouted orders and Hephaistion, Telamonian and the others were herded over to the right.

Telamonian leaned over to talk to Hephaistion. "We must wait our turn. See that plinth over there?" Hephaistion nodded. "We must stand on it."

Hephaistion watched a Persian girl, as the crowd bid for her. His view at times was obstructed by merchants and Persian citizens, walking by, looking at what was on offer.

"The skill is always for them not to show interest," whispered Telamonian. "They have their eyes on you, though, I can see it."

"How?"

"You are like a fine horse, among mules," smiled Telamonian.

The girl was sold and a mother and child were pushed on to the plinth. A young Persian stepped forward and began to examine Hephaistion, lifting his lips to see his teeth. Over the Persian's shoulder Hephaistion could see others slowing down, taking furtive glances. He struggled against the abuse and was hit across the shoulders by one of Darius' men.

"Stand still," warned Telamonian. "You must accept that your old life is over, if you are to survive this new life."

"Never," replied Hephaistion, pulling back and then striking out at the Persian. He was ready for Darius' men, and turned to face them, his hands formed one fist and he managed to strike one to the ground, stepping forward to run, before he was brought to the ground. He curled up, expecting a punishment, but Darius was there, hitting his own men.

He had Hephaistion brought to his feet. "You lose me money," he hissed, spitting in Hephaistion's face as he spoke.

The Persian man, whom Hephaistion had struck, was on his feet, complaining bitterly to Darius. Darius raised his hands and launched a tirade at the man, who backed down, and went on his way. Darius addressed the passing crowds, holding his hands up to Hephaistion, as he spoke, no doubt wishing to put aside any fears that the boy was more trouble than he was worth.

Nine more people were sold, and then the young girl was led, crying once more, to the plinth. The crowd had increased in size, but there was not much interest. Hephaistion could not see who bought her. Then it was the turn of the young boy.

"Poor Oeneus," said Telamonian. "He will not understand…and they will not understand it…he does not look a fool."

Hephaistion watched. Oeneus looked unconcerned, and interest in him was high. Oeneus smiled at the crowd, looking around, until bidding ended and he was led away.

"I will be next," said Telamonian. "Take care," he said, acknowledging the guards as they came for him.

Hephaistion wished there was something he could do. It was unfair that a man be thrown away because of his age. Again, there was little interest, and Telamonian was led away.

Hephaistion was taken to the plinth, and pushed up on to it. He held his head proudly as he looked out across the crowd. The man taking bids was talking; he moved his hands, instructing Hephaistion to turn, which he did. A woman shouted out, and there was some laughter, with people turning to see where the voice had come from.

Bidding began, slowly at first, and then with more interest. Hephaistion closed his eyes and thought of Alexander, thought himself back in Pella, wishing he could wake from this dream. To wake up and lie in Alexander's arms, and to tell him, to hear him laugh as he told him that's all it was…. a dream. Hephaistion opened his eyes. It was all too real. Humiliating. Degrading.

Bidding ended. Hephaistion was pulled from the plinth and taken to a less crowded area. He saw Darius talking to a thin, wiry man, with a straggly grey beard, dressed in black. As they talked, the man pointed at Hephaistion and smiled. Darius turned, locating Hephaistion, before walking over to him, followed by this man.

"This is Mazeus. Your new master," said Darius.

Mazeus stepped forward to examine his purchase. He smiled, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth.

"You will be taken to Miletus," Darius informed him. "It is a port located further north. Mazeus has no ship, you are an important purchase for him, but you must walk the distance."

Mazeus handed a bag of money to Darius, who weighed it in his hand. He spoke to Mazeus, then to his men who removed the chains from Hephaistion.

If Hephaistion thought for a moment of escape, it was quickly dashed as Mazeus' men appeared and tied him once more with rope. Just before he was led away Darius spoke to him. "Just so you know," he said, "I got more than three hundred drachm for you."

Hephaistion could hear Darius' laughter, as he began the long walk to Miletus.

PART TWENTY-FOUR

"And who is this Agathon?"

Alexander drank his wine, turning to his mother. Emptying the cup, he put it down. "He is a friend."

"I never heard you mention him before."

Alexander went to pour more wine. Olympias put her hand out to stop him. "Alexander, you are drinking too much." She sighed. "I know that you have just lost Hephaistion..."

"Six days…it has been six days."

"You have just lost Hephaistion," repeated Olympias, taking the wine and handing it to a servant to take away. "Do not drown your sorrows with wine, Alexander."

"It helps to numb the pain," Alexander looked on Olympias, his eyes brimming with tears.

Olympias embraced her son. She had wanted to comfort him sooner, but Philip made sure she could not reach him, and Alexander had not sought her out until now. She had heard he had locked himself away in his rooms; that he was drinking too much, that a boy called Agathon was with him each day, only leaving at night.

"You seem to have forgotten him already," she said. "You have replaced him, so soon, with this Agathon."

"No! Never!" cried Alexander. "He just listens to me as I talk of Hephaistion. He understands what he meant to me. Which is more than you ever did."

"And he hopes to take his place."

Alexander shook his head. "No. Nobody ever will."

"So you intend to shut yourself away. To deny yourself a life because Hephaistion died."

"No."

"Then live, Alexander."

Alexander held his mother tightly. Needing her affection, knowing she was right. He should move on.

Olympias broke the embrace, stroking Alexander's face. She frowned a little as she looked upon him. "Ah! Your beautiful hair," she sighed, before moving away and sitting on a couch. "Your father wants you to head the Vanguard."

Alexander nodded. "He spoke to me of it at Mieza. Just yesterday, he told me that the Vanguard was mine."

Olympias closed her eyes, in a silent prayer to Dionysus. At least, Philip too, was trying to do something to help her son. Perhaps she could do more. "Has the search for Hephaistion's killer yielded any results?"

"No, and it is not likely to."

"Why would anyone attack Hephaistion? That is what puzzles me?" she said, watching for Alexander's reaction.

"They say for Bucephalus."

"Any fool would see that you can not just sell a horse like that without drawing attention to yourself," laughed Olympias.

"Then for what?" asked Alexander, scowling at his mother for her laughter.

"He was your friend."

Alexander reeled at the thought that someone would harm Hephaistion because he cared for him. He shook his head. "I have many friends," he said.

"None as Hephaistion."

"No. It was for Bucephalus. I could not be the cause of Hephaistion's death."

"I do not say you are, Alexander. I just say that you should be careful…think of every possibility…do not cloud your judgement with wine."

"I have thought of it," admitted Alexander.

"What have I ever taught you, Alexander? That you must beware those around you; expect them to deceive you…to want to destroy you."

Alexander stared, at the portrait of Achilles, in his mother's room. Achilles avenging Patroclus' death by killing Hector. He had the satisfaction of revenge, going so far as to drag Hector's body behind his chariot. How could he avenge the death of his Patroclus?

He looked away, vaguely aware of his mother's last words. It was always the same advice, from when he was a child. That he should be alone and trust no one. He thought he had escaped his destiny, but it seemed, the Gods were not so kind.

He walked away from his mother, heading back to his own rooms. Agathon suddenly appeared; he had been waiting.

"How is your mother?"

"She is well," said Alexander

"Did she mention Hephaistion?"

Alexander ignored the question. Agathon fell into step with him, and they walked on in silence.

Once back in his rooms Alexander went to pour more wine. Agathon hurried over to pour him a cup and hand it to him. As Alexander drank, he studied Agathon over the rim of the cup.

"I have had a bath prepared for you," said Agathon.

"I can order my own bath," snapped Alexander.

Agathon stepped back; a worried look crossed his face. Alexander put his hand up to Agathon's face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Agathon stepped close to Alexander, and quickly planted a kiss, on Alexander's lips. It was just a tentative touch at first, but then Agathon parted his lips, encouraging Alexander to do the same. His hands came up to Alexander's waist pulling him close

Alexander let his tongue explore Agathon's mouth, his free hand slipping round so that his fingers could run through Agathon's hair.

It was an echo…just an echo…Alexander's heart ached for just one more moment with Hephaistion. He pulled away, just as a knock came at the door. A memory of another time came to mind; he looked on Agathon and regretted his response.

The door opened and Ptolemy entered, a little hesitantly. "We have brought Hephaistion's belongings, as you requested, Alexander," he said.

Alexander nodded, and Ptolemy opened the door wider. Seleucus was carrying Hephaistion's shield, sword, breastplate and helmet, Ptolemy and Perdiccas the wooden chest and Cassander some books, paperwork and Hephaistion's cloak.

They looked for a place to put down the belongings, choosing a corner of the room. Alexander watched. Hephaistion did not have much, he had hoped one day to give him everything he desired.

"Would you leave me alone," he said. Turning to Agathon, he added, "All of you."

When he was alone, Alexander went over to the corner, sitting down on the floor and touching the breastplate, the helmet…the sword. He lifted the lid of the chest, Hephaistion's scent was there; he drank it in like a man dying of thirst, closing the lid to retain it.

Tears filled his eyes, memories all too strong, but worth it even for the pain they cost.

PART TWENTY-FIVE

They arrived at Miletus at dusk on the fifth day, and were led along the busy streets to the market square.

Mazeus had taken to leading Hephaistion. A length of rope had been tied to Hephaistion's hands, and he would be forced to walk alongside Mazeus' flea-bitten horse, each day. When they rested, Mazeus would still keep Hephaistion close by, or order a guard to keep watch over him.

The market square was about as large as the one at the port. Hephaistion looked for the plinth. No slaves were being sold, it being late in the day. There were small wooden enclosures around the square, with men, women and children behind them. Some citizens of Miletus were wandering by the enclosures, as if deciding whom they would bid for come the next day.

Mazeus called to a stout man, who was talking to a woman. The man turned and hurried over, casting a knowing eye over Mazeus' purchases. He smiled as he saw Hephaistion, pointing at him and stepping up for a closer inspection. Mazeus handed the rope to this man, talking to him as he dismounted. The man nodded his head, and then led Hephaistion over to a post and had him tied to it, with his back against it.

Hephaistion slid down the post, so that he could sit. He saw that they were putting the other slaves in an enclosure. Mazeus' men were bringing water and bread, their staple diet over the last few days. He closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. Miletus was a port, but he could not smell the sea, because of the stench within its walls.

He had the hope that someone from Miletus would buy him. If this occurred, then he would thank the Gods, who seemed to have forgotten him, for he could escape and easily reach a ship. Even if he would have to hide away on it and guess to where it landed next, he would find his way back to Alexander. He opened his eyes, aware that someone was approaching him.

A Persian man approached, well dressed, with a dark curled beard. He crouched down to study Hephaistion. When Hephaistion closed his eyes, he prodded him to open them again. He put his hand up to Hephaistion's jaw, trying to prise his mouth open. Hephaistion pulled away.

This man then called over to the stout man. He came running over, calling to Mazeus, before pulling at Hephaistion, who got to his feet, having learned it was easier to obey.

Mazeus hurried over and began to talk about Hephaistion. As he spoke the well-dressed man cast his eyes over Hephaistion. This time when he put his hand to Hephaistion's jaw, he opened his mouth. If he had not, Mazeus would have forced him to.

The well-dressed man stepped back and reached for his purse. Whatever he offered, it insulted Mazeus. The man obviously offered more, but not enough to close the deal. He stepped back, to take in Hephaistion for a final time, glancing at Mazeus to see if he would change his mind. Then he put away his purse and went over to the enclosures.

Mazeus laughed and rubbed his hands, patting Hephaistion, before hurrying after the man to do another deal. He called back, to the stout man, who nodded in reply. This man then fetched water, holding a ladle to Hephaistion's lips so he could drink. Then he wet Hephaistion's face, and proceeded to shave him, for the first time since Darius had ordered it.

When he had done he fetched a small bowl of thin broth, and held it again, so that Hephaistion could drink it. It tasted like nectar, although Hephaistion still felt as hungry when the bowl was empty.

Hephaistion looked over at Mazeus, who was still talking to the well-dressed man, unable to come to a deal, he guessed. The words became more heated, and once again the man attempted to call Mazeus' bluff, before waving his hands, and walking away while Mazeus shouted after him.

Mazeus spat, and then walked back over to Hephaistion, talking to his men. They hurried over, untying Hephaistion and securing him in an enclosure. Mazeus checked it was locked securely, and then with a final look, he headed off down a narrow street.

The guards sat down, talking, playing a game Hephaistion could not recognise. It grew dark. Hephaistion found a quiet spot, and lay down on the dirt floor, resting his head on his arm. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

PART TWENTY-SIX

Early morning found Alexander riding out on Bucephalus. He would have liked to be alone, but he was aware of the guard riding a short distance away from him.

He did not head to the river, but up into the hills, where memories of Hephaistion were few.

He had awoken with the resolve to go on. That he would no longer attempt to soften his grief with wine. For look where it had got him last night – into Agathon's arms.

He had not intended it, and then he remembered that Agathon had initiated the kiss. Agathon, who had never shown any such interest before, in him or any of the companions. He remembered his mother's words that Agathon was trying to take Hephaistion's place. Perhaps he was. Agathon could never be Hephaistion.

"And where will I find love now? Who will offer counsel without prejudice? Who will understand? Share my soul?" he asked the breeze, which ruffled his shorn hair, glowing golden in the morning light.

PART TWENTY-SEVEN

As dawn had broken over Miletus, a bustle had begun in the market place.

Other slave dealers, with their own men, arrived. Shouting orders, preparing their slaves.

Hephaistion sat up, watching. There was no sign of Mazeus; perhaps the old man needed more rest.

Some of the other dealers came to the enclosure, obviously eyeing up what the competition would be on the market that day. They pointed at some of the men and women, but then saw Hephaistion, and nudged each other.

The stout man appeared; they called him over. The stout man looked at Hephaistion and smiled, then talked to the dealers. As he spoke he looked around the market, possibly looking for Mazeus to arrive. He looked into the enclosure and signalled for Hephaistion to come over. Hephaistion stayed as he was, seated on the ground. The last thing he wanted was to be purchased by another dealer, who might possibly take him to another market, away from the port.

On seeing his defiance, two of the dealers walked away, only one remained. The one who looked the richest of them all. The stout man shouted at Hephaistion, but he was no dog to come when called.

Mazeus appeared, and took over the discussion, making no attempt to get Hephaistion to move. His men were bringing water, but no food. Hephaistion stood then, and went to wait his turn. He felt some comradeship with these other men and women. They were all to share the same fate.

He glanced over at Mazeus. He seemed determined not to do a deal. Hephaistion hid a smile as he drank, feeling a ridiculous happiness that he was not to be sold to a dealer.

After he had quenched his thirst, he went back to his place and sat down, watching the activity in the market. Mazeus had disappeared again, the stout man was ordering Mazeus' men about, but they were ignoring him.

The market place began to fill as the citizens of Miletus came to view what was on offer. Hephaistion watched as they walked by the enclosure, wondering if the person who would buy him was amongst them. He decided to offer no resistance, he did not want to give the impression he would cause any trouble. He needed them off their guard, to feel that he would not escape.

A shout went up. This had the effect of creating frenzy in the market, each dealer rushing to the enclosures, shouting orders to his men. Mazeus ran over, pointing at Hephaistion. His men hurriedly opened the enclosure and ran to him, grabbing his arms and bringing him forward.

He was led to where the other dealers had formed a line with some of their slaves. Mazeus shouted at another, who was pushing his slaves so that Hephaistion was crowded out. This dealer shouted at Mazeus, but gave ground. Mazeus was so excited that he forgot himself, and chattered to Hephaistion, forgetting he could not be understood.

The general chatter ceased as a middle-aged man with noble bearing appeared. Guards were at his side, and as he passed, people bowed. He was handsome, holding his head high, an air of authority around him.

He approached the line of slaves. The dealers spoke as he studied what they offered for sale. Hephaistion guessed they had brought out the best. Some had three or four for sale, Mazeus had only one. Darius had said he was an important purchase, perhaps Mazeus hoped to improve his standing in the market.

The man stopped to look at him, with a look of disinterest on his face. Hephaistion met his gaze. He was a Macedonian and would never fear a Persian. The man grunted, then turned away, and continued down the line.

Mazeus whispered to his men, then watched intently where the man would go, who he would look at.

The man turned again and walked back along the line. This time as he went he selected men and women. The dealer's men pulled them out of the line, and herded them along behind him. He was selective; he chose four, then looked as if he were done. He ignored Hephaistion as he walked by, and then hesitated, as if he'd had a sudden idea. Turning back he spoke to Mazeus, and returned to look upon Hephaistion.

Mazeus had Hephaistion brought forward. He ran his hand through Hephaistion's hair, opened his mouth, turned his head from one side and then the other; talking all the time, smiling at the man. The man still looked disinterested. He spoke once, and waited for Mazeus' answer. Mazeus shook his head, and the man walked on. Seeing this, Mazeus seemed to panic, and ran after the man, still talking, although it sounded more like begging.

The man halted, looked at Mazeus, and spoke. Mazeus smiled and signalled for his men to bring Hephaistion. He talked to the man, as they made their way through the market, and through a large gateway, behind which was a palace.

So he was to be a palace slave. Hephaistion noted the guards, at the gate, and within the palace itself as he was led inside. It was cool within the walls. The palace was decorated more gaudily than Pella. It boasted of wealth, where Philip wanted his palace to speak of culture. The palace brought Alexander to the fore of Hephaistion's thoughts. He missed his friend so badly.

He lost his way inside the palace. What if it became familiar? What if he never escaped? What if he never saw Alexander again?

The man put his hand up, and Mazeus turned and signalled for Hephaistion to stand still. They were standing in a hallway, an open door showing a glimpse of the grand hall beyond. The noble man stepped forward, and disappeared into the room. His voice echoed around the hall, as he spoke.

Then one of the dealers pushed forward a young girl that had been selected. She began to cry as she was ushered into the room, falling to her knees; the dealer's man pulled her upright and dragged her out of sight.

Another voice was heard; it spoke briefly.

The man then spoke and another dealer pushed forward a Persian youth, who walked with dignity, his head held high. He was graceful, feminine. Hephaistion wondered how he had been brought into slavery. He too, disappeared from sight. Again the voice, perhaps closer this time. It sounded bored. Disinterested.

Hephaistion looked behind him as a woman was pushed forward. He checked to see how easy it would be to run. He owed it to himself to try to escape. He was unarmed, but half way down the corridor, scimitars were displayed on the walls. If he could reach them he might have a chance.

The man next to him was pushed forward. He was visibly shaking. As he went into the room he began to beg. Hephaistion could not make out the words, but it was begging. Mazeus smiled, his toothless smile, as the dealer who owned the man became flustered.

Hephaistion looked on the scimitars, but was then pushed forward into the room. He resisted the guards' attempts to pull him forward, prepared to go at his own pace. The girl was on her knees, crying silently. The handsome Persian stared straight ahead, and the woman comforted the distressed man.

The noble man from the market was there, looking proudly on. Another man sat on a couch, eating fruit, the juice from which had run down his beard. He smiled and nodded as he saw Hephaistion, speaking to the man.

He was obviously the local satrap. His expensive robes and his demeanour said it all. He was plump from easy living, with gold rings on his podgy fingers and his beard curled. He struggled to his feet, and walked over to Hephaistion.

Mazeus stepped forward; bowing low he began to speak. The satrap waved him away, and Mazeus obeyed. He spoke to the noble man, who approached.

Hephaistion was disconcerted by the way the satrap was looking at him. He looked away, around the room; he had not noticed the courtiers, when he was brought in. They stood against the walls, looking bored. He noticed another door, and wondered where it led.

Mazeus had been brought back into the conversation. Hephaistion glanced over his shoulder and saw a man enter the room from the other door. He was Greek, and walked with confidence. This man was no servant; he was dressed in fine clothes of the Greek style. He was mature, though younger than Philip, Hephaistion judged. Handsome and assured.

For a moment, Hephaistion wanted to call out, to speak to someone in his own tongue. To ask him, what he was doing? If he could help him return to Pella?

The Greek spoke, in Persian. He shouted across the room to the satrap, who laughed in turn. The satrap then spoke, and this time it was The Greek's turn to laugh. He walked over and looked at Hephaistion, their eyes meeting, but saying nothing.

The satrap spoke. Mazeus bowed low once more. The other slaves led the way from the room; Mazeus then pushed Hephaistion, guiding him to follow. Hephaistion turned and looked at The Greek, who was talking to the satrap, laughing with him.

The guards pushed them along. Hephaistion, once again, looked on the scimitars, but then he was directed along a corridor to the left. The others were led straight ahead. The guards that stayed with Hephaistion spoke to him, laughing, shoving at him.

Once again he felt disorientated, and was surprised to find himself back in the courtyard through which they had entered.

Mazeus led the way along the dusty streets. He seemed happy enough, although it appeared that the deal had not gone through. Hephaistion wondered what would happen now. If he would have to suffer the humiliation of the market once more?

As they approached the market square, a voice rang out behind them. It was The Greek.

Mazeus halted, and turned, smiling and bowing. The Greek pointed at Hephaistion and Mazeus had him brought forward. They spoke. Mazeus appeared concerned, shaking his head. The Greek raised his voice and Mazeus bowed to him. Then the Greek turned to Hephaistion.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"What are you doing here?" asked Hephaistion.

"I'm asking the questions," smiled The Greek. "Answer me, boy."

"Hephaistion."

The Greek nodded. He studied Hephaistion, but did not touch him. He went to one of Mazeus' men and took his sword from him, handing it to Hephaistion. Taking out his own sword, he touched Hephaistion's blade. "Fight me."

"I have no quarrel with you."

The Greek held the point of his blade to Hephaistion's throat. "Fight me," he repeated.

Hephaistion stayed still. The Greek turned his back, went to walk away, then turned and raised his sword high, bringing it down for a killing blow.

Hephaistion put his guard up, raising his sword and stopping his opponent. He stepped back to balance himself, and then attacked. His own blow was parried, but he swung the sword round and narrowly missed taking a slice from the Greek's arm.

This time The Greek stepped back. He was laughing. He circled Hephaistion. A crowd had gathered, to watch, they formed a larger circle.

The Greek stepped forward, yelling a war cry. Hephaistion spun away, then advanced on The Greek. Recalling everything he had ever been taught by Leonidas, he parried forward.

However, The Greek was an experienced soldier. He knew tricks that Hephaistion had never been taught. After deflecting Hephaistion's blows, his face serious now with effort, he stepped forward and hooked his foot around Hephaistion's ankle, pulling him to the ground.

Hephaistion lay splayed out upon it. The Greek crouched by his side. "They mean to geld you. You are destined for the harem." He lifted his sword and plunged it between Hephaistion's legs, before pulling it back and walking away.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Hephaistion lay panting on the ground. He watched The Greek heading back to the palace. Understanding why the guards had been laughing. Wondering why The Greek had followed. He looked at the sword in his hand. Perhaps it would be better to die fighting, than be made a eunuch of the court. If only he had the strength to fight. He was exhausted. The Greek fought like a man possessed.

The guard, who owned the sword, stepped forward, and took it back. The others lifted Hephaistion up. They didn't take him to the market. They led him along the narrow streets, to a house with high walls around it. Mazeus' house.

It was large enough, but there was nothing grand about it. As if Mazeus begrudged spending his wealth, which he undoubtedly had. Hephaistion was halted at the gate, giving him a chance to look around the courtyard.

Along the wall, on the left, were four cages, prisons. They were made of wood. Three were empty, but a young man lay huddled in the fourth. He was chanting the same words over and over again.

Straight ahead was the main entrance to the house. A woman stood there, hands on her hips. She spoke to Mazeus, anger in her voice. Mazeus stepped forward, his hands raised in appeasement, he turned and pointed to Hephaistion. The woman looked at him, and then stepped forward. She shouted at the young man in the cage, and the chanting stopped. She spoke to Mazeus, and nodded in the direction of a small shed.

The shed lay along the wall to the right. Its door was wide open. Hephaistion could clearly see a table, with posts attached to one end of it. At this end, it was stained, dark. The words of The Greek were ringing in his head. They had brought him here to be gelded, to emasculate him.

Hephaistion felt as if he was in a nightmare. The woman laughed as she saw where Hephaistion was looking. She went to touch his groin, Hephaistion stepped back, numbly feeling the guards take his arms. He cried out, digging his heels in the ground, surprised as they dragged him back and threw him into one of the wooden cages, shutting the door.

Hephaistion lay still for a moment. He had expected to be taken to the shed, and so he was relieved to be in a cage instead. His life had come to something when he was happy for imprisonment. He closed his eyes, needing to visualise Alexander. Needing to take himself away to happier times. Alexander came to him; spoke his name, smiled on him.

The chanting began again, and Hephaistion opened his eyes. The woman had gone. Mazeus was talking to the guards.

Hephaistion sat up. The cage was too small to stand up in. He rested against the back wall, unable to stop looking at the shed. How badly would it hurt? Would he feel the same afterwards? The Greek had said he was destined for the harem. As a servant? He couldn't think of anything more. He just felt fear.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on The Greek. His fighting style. Where he could have gained the upper hand. He had the sword. He should have tried harder. Killed The Greek. Found a horse.

He heard the woman. Hephaistion opened his eyes, and looked up. She was walking towards his cage, holding a silver cup. She crouched down, speaking softly, smiling.

She held up the cup, and offered it to him. Hephaistion came forward. It was water, just half a cup. He licked his lips, and took the cup. The woman mimed, that he should drink.

Hephaistion drank the water down, handing the cup back to the woman. His throat had been dry; he welcomed any kindness, and smiled at the woman, thanking her. The woman laughed and walked back into the house. As she passed by Mazeus, she spoke to him. Mazeus nodded, and looked over his shoulder at Hephaistion.

Mazeus was sharpening a knife. The metal of it glinted in the sun. He spoke to the guards, who went to the cage with the young man. Opening it, they dragged him out. The young man began to scream, talking fast, begging.

Hephaistion pushed himself back against the wall, bringing his legs up, under his chin, and wrapping his arms about them. They dragged the young man to the shed. Hephaistion saw them strip him, and throw him on to the table, on his back. He saw the guards, tying the young man's legs to the posts, as Mazeus shut the door.

The screaming increased. Waves of screams. Terror. Hephaistion heard Mazeus shouting above it. Then one, long, drawn-out cry, before silence.

Hephaistion felt sick. He moved on to his hands and knees, as his stomach heaved up the meagre rations of the previous day. He could not stop being sick. He realised it was more than fear; it was the contents of the drink he had been given. He lay on his side, shivering. He heard the shed door open, but felt too sick to look. His stomach heaved, and he brought up bile. He felt as if he were dying. Perhaps he was…it would be a blessing from Zeus.

PART TWENTY-NINE

Hephaistion was left on his own for the rest of the day. Mazeus came out to check the cages were secure, as it was getting dark.

The young man had been silent since they had brought him from the shed. Bandages had been applied, but Hephaistion could see the blood seeping through to stain them red. Mazeus went into the young man's cage; he spoke harshly, hitting him, making him cry out from fear.

Mazeus then came over to the cage where Hephaistion sat, his back once again to the wall. Hephaistion held his arms across his stomach. Mazeus laughed as he saw the vomit inside the cage. He spoke to Hephaistion, chuckling to himself.

Hephaistion shivered. Both hungry and thirsty, his head ached. He looked towards Mazeus but his thoughts were back in Pella.

Mazeus stood up, checking once more, that Hephaistion's cage was secure, before going into the house.

Hephaistion looked over at the young man. He was looking back at him; he began to speak. Hephaistion had no idea what he was saying. "Were you taken from your home as well?" he asked. "Do you have someone you love and miss?"

The young man hesitated, listening. Then he replied, his voice full of the pain he was bearing.

Hephaistion put his hand to his chest. "Hephaistion," he said.

The young man gave a slight nod. "Oxhatres," he replied.

"It is good to know you, Oxhatres. For at the moment, you are the closest I have to a friend."

Oxhatres did not reply. He smiled, though, before resting his head on the ground. Hephaistion decided to do the same and sleep finally claimed him.

PART THIRTY

He woke before dawn, confused at first by his surroundings, and then remembering why he was there. He guessed that they would geld him this day.

"Oxhatres," he called out. "Are you awake?"

In the early morning light, he could make out Oxhatres lying on his side, his back to him. He guessed he was still sleeping, which would be a mercy for him. Anything that would take you away from this place was a blessing.

He heard noise from the house; the door was unbolted, and then opened. The woman appeared, yawning and stretching. She spoke to someone inside the house, and then wandered over to the cage holding Oxhatres. She spoke, and then was silent, before shouting loudly and running back to the house.

Hephaistion looked. Oxhatres had not moved.

Mazeus appeared from the house, the woman pushing him along, hitting out at him. He opened the cage and went in, pushing Oxhatres' body, Oxhatres was dead.

Mazeus came out of the cage and grabbed Oxhatres' feet, pulling him along. He had died in the night, his body now a statue in death. Hephaistion could see blood staining Oxhatres' legs. He had not survived the gelding.

Mazeus pulled back the bandages, while his wife kept on shouting, and waving her hands in the air. Mazeus' men appeared, as well as a young servant girl from the house, to see what the commotion was.

Mazeus' wife strode over to the cage holding Hephaistion. She hit it with her hand, screaming at Mazeus, circling her thumb over her fingers. Money. Hephaistion realised she was worried about losing money if he died too. In her eyes he was no longer a man, but something similar to a bull calf.

Mazeus finished his examination and stood up. He kicked Oxhatres body and went back inside the house, his wife following, still shouting. Mazeus' men opened the main gate and then carried Oxhatres body out for disposal.

They returned a short while later, and sat on the ground, talking amongst themselves. Mazeus emerged from the house and spoke to them. He walked out to the street and they followed him. Hephaistion guessed they were going to the market.

He took the opportunity to see if there was any possibility of escape, but the cage was locked in such a way he could not break free. He would not allow himself to look towards the shed, but resolved that he would show courage, although inside he might be screaming as Oxhatres had.

He wondered if Oxhatres had a family that might be hoping he would return. It had been so long since he had seen his own family, having been at Pella since he was a boy. Alexander had become his world.

Hephaistion prayed to Zeus to keep Alexander safe and well. He would have added a prayer that he could return to Alexander, but how could he return a eunuch?

PART THIRTY-ONE

Agathon had stayed away from Alexander's rooms, since the kiss. He had only taken the chance as he felt he was failing to win Alexander's affection in any form.

It had not been unpleasant, and if he had to do it again he would. In fact, he hoped it would happen, he had been curious about it ever since.

Now he found himself going to those rooms once more; needing to see Alexander, if Alexander were there. He knew that Alexander had been riding Bucephalus each day, with a guard in attendance. That Ptolemy, Perdiccas and the others all ached to accompany him but that Alexander said he preferred to be alone, as much as he could be. The truth was that his old friends reminded him too much of the one he had lost. That was why he chose isolation.

Agathon knocked on the door; surprised to hear Alexander bid him enter. He took a breath, and smiled, then walked in. Alexander was lying on his bed, a book in his hand. He looked up and smiled at Agathon.

"I wondered where you had got to," Alexander said in greeting.

"I know you have been busy. That is good to see," said Agathon, walking over and seating himself on the opposite side of the bed.

Alexander closed the book. "What happened the other day…"

"I am sorry, Alexander, I should not have…" interrupted Agathon.

"What happened the other day, Agathon," Alexander continued. "It was not unpleasant…although unexpected, but it is too soon for me."

"I understand," replied Agathon, a little too quickly. He smiled. "I just want to be your friend, Alexander. I know you have not known me as long as the others, sometimes I feel a little left out."

Alexander just looked on him. The same look, as that day in the courtyard, when Bucephalus had unseated him.

Agathon blushed. "What is your book?"

Alexander looked at it. "It is a book on military strategy."

"Oh."

"Have you seen the others?" asked Alexander, getting up from the bed. "Let's go find them, they will think that I am neglecting them."

"Alexander!" Agathon did not want him to leave, to go to friends who would quickly demote him to the background. "Come with me to Gephria. My home. I would be honoured if you would."

"Gephria?"

"It is not far. My family would be happy to see you. The change may be good for you."

Alexander considered the invitation. "Very well, we shall go tomorrow."

Agathon smiled with delight. "Really?"

"Really," replied Alexander. He put his hand on Agathon's arm. "Come. Let's go see the others and make arrangements later."

Agathon stopped Alexander. "It is to be just the two of us."

Alexander nodded his head. "I know, Agathon," he said and smiled, leading him from the room.

PART THIRTY-TWO

Mazeus' wife had kept herself busy in the house. Hephaistion could hear her scolding the servant girl throughout the day. He guessed it was because Oxhatres had died, because they had lost money by his death.

Hephaistion looked towards the shed; he couldn't help it. He heard Oxhatres screams once more; saw them tying him to the table. As they would tie him down.

Let him go to Alexander, be by his side once more. Let him wake to find this all a bad dream. But Alexander was a dream to him now. He thought his future was by Alexander's side. If he only had known, he would have stayed another moment in Alexander's arms, stolen another kiss, taken another smile and stored it in his heart.

Hephaistion scooped up a handful of dust, and let it fall through his fingers. All the time he had wasted; all the time he could have had.

Mazeus returned late in the afternoon. Hephaistion's heart began to beat louder in his chest. He moved to the back of the cage, pushing himself against the wall as if he could disappear into it. Bringing his knees up under his chin, he wrapped his arms around his legs. He could hear his heart, and tried to calm himself, fearing Mazeus might hear it, as it was beating so loudly.

Mazeus went into the house, but his men stayed in the courtyard. They sat in a small circle and spoke amongst themselves. One of them looked over at Hephaistion, the man yawned, then turned and made a joke as his friend laughed.

Hephaistion closed his eyes, willing himself back at Pella. Thinking of when he would sit and joke, with his friends. He looked back on the man. Perhaps one day his world would turn on its axis; who knew what the fates had in store for anyone.

Mazeus came out of the house and went into the shed. Hephaistion watched him transfixed with fear. He emerged with the knife, the blade still dark with Oxhatres blood. He went over to a bucket, and swilled the knife in water, then began to sharpen it. He called to his men, who stood up and went to the cage holding Hephaistion.

Hephaistion pushed himself further into the wall, as one of the men opened the door to the cage. This man spoke to another, and they both entered the cage, speaking softly to Hephaistion. They hesitated, still speaking soothingly, looking at each other, judging when they would make their move.

As they advanced Hephaistion kicked out, before throwing himself forward in an effort to escape the cage. They grabbed at him, ripping his chiton, shouting now to the others who reached forward and pulled him, pushing him to the ground once he was free from the cage. One of them lay across his chest, the other across his legs, as his hands were tied in front of him.

"No!" cried Hephaistion, as they pulled him to his feet, and across the courtyard towards the shed.

Mazeus called out and the men stood still, holding Hephaistion firmly. Hephaistion glanced at the shed. They might as well kill him. He would rather that they did. Mazeus grasped Hephaistion's jaw, in his left hand, turning his head to face him. Hephaistion was breathing hard, looking at Mazeus, then back to the shed, before back to Mazeus.

He tried to struggle against the men, but was held fast. Mazeus was talking to him, trying to soothe him. As he spoke he cut through the chiton, over Hephaistion's right shoulder and it fell away. Hephaistion fought with all of his strength, but was held firmly. Mazeus still held his jaw, forcing Hephaistion to look at him. He held eye contact as he cut through the chiton over Hephaistion's left shoulder.

"No," whispered Hephaistion, in a plea he knew was useless before it ever left his lips.

He felt the belt being cut through, and the chiton falling away. Mazeus handed the knife to one of his men, who quickly sliced through Hephaistion's undergarment, leaving him naked. All the time Mazeus crooned soothing words, as if he could quell Hephaistion's fear.

Hephaistion glanced towards the shed. Mazeus crossed his right hand over his left, shielding Hephaistion so he could not see it. Hephaistion saw Mazeus' wife emerge from the house holding what looked like smouldering herbs. She walked quickly and held them under Hephaistion's nose, making him breathe the acrid smoke. Hephaistion coughed, freeing himself from Mazeus' clutches. With this success, he tried once more, to free himself from Mazeus' men.

Mazeus' wife shouted, waving the herbs, while the men took a firmer hold of Hephaistion. With a word from Mazeus they pulled Hephaistion to the shed, but when his wife shouted even louder, they brought him from it. It seemed, as if she thought it important, that Hephaistion be half suffocated by the smoke before he was castrated.

This time Mazeus grabbed a handful of Hephaistion's hair to hold his head still, pushing him to his knees. He ran a hand down Hephaistion's chest, then down his upper arms. He laughed, and spoke to his wife who was blowing on the herbs to make them burn once more. Finally satisfied, she held them under Hephaistion's nose again

Hephaistion coughed, closing his eyes against the smoke. He heard horses, and shouting, and he was pulled to his feet. The air cleared and he opened his eyes, to gaze upon The Greek, who was smiling at him. In one hand, he held Mazeus' wife's wrist, so tightly, she dropped the burning herbs.

"It is meant to make you drowsy, so you do not fear the knife," he said. "It seems I got here just in time." Hephaistion coughed. The Greek gave orders to one of Mazeus' men, and a cup of water was held to Hephaistion's lips. He drank greedily.

"Not too much now," warned The Greek.

"Who are you?" asked Hephaistion.

"Still asking the questions," he laughed. "Perhaps I am your saviour. I have a proposal to put to you."

"A proposal?" Hephaistion looked up and noticed, for the first time, the man who had been at the market…the satrap's man…seated on a fine horse, looking down on him.

"That is Spitamenes, one of the satrap's advisors. He intends to have you made a eunuch for the harem. Mazeus has said he can geld you in such a way that you will still feel pleasure."

"He killed a boy…Oxhatres. He died, this morning."

The Greek put his hand on Hephaistion's shoulder. "Some die, Hephaistion. Perhaps it is the kindest thing. You think that you will just be a servant in the harem?"

Hephaistion looked at The Greek. "I don't know."

"You are intended for the satrap, Hephaistion. You will be taught how to pleasure him."

Hephaistion stared at The Greek. "Never."

"You will be taught how to pleasure him. You will accept it eventually; they know ways to break a spirit…even such as yours, Hephaistion. I have seen them do it."

"No."

"Yes, Hephaistion. Now listen to me. I have fought a battle for this satrap, won it for him. In his gratitude he has granted me whatever I wish. I can save you, Hephaistion. That is what I am here for."

Hephaistion glanced towards the shed.

"It doesn't have to happen, Hephaistion. Not the gelding, not the harem, not the satrap touching you. None of it."

"What do I have to do?"

"Fight for me. Swear allegiance to me, Hephaistion. That is all."

"I can not…my allegiance is elsewhere."

"What good is it to you here, Hephaistion? In a strange country? Alone. Think, Hephaistion. These are my terms. If you refuse them…" The Greek held his hand out towards the shed.

"I would be a slave to you?" Hephaistion asked.

"No, not a slave. A servant. Bound by allegiance. But I will treat you well, Hephaistion. You will never go cold or hungry while you are with me. You are hungry now?"

Hephaistion nodded his head.

Mazeus spoke. He was angry. The Greek snapped at him, speaking in Persian, Mazeus backed down.

"What is it to be, Hephaistion? Mazeus is anxious to get the job done. Do you think that you can escape a harem? Is that it? And where would you go, Hephaistion? You would be a freak…a curiosity."

"I don't know!" cried Hephaistion. "Don't let it happen! Please, don't let it happen."

"Then swear allegiance, Hephaistion. I need your promise of loyalty. That you will never attempt to escape, that you fight when I ask."

Hephaistion looked at The Greek. He was lost. Whichever he chose. The Greek caressed the side of his face, the act of kindness pushed him over the edge. "I swear," he whispered.

"I have your allegiance, on my terms, Hephaistion? I need you to say it."

Hephaistion shook his head, but heard himself say it. "I will be loyal, I will not attempt to escape, and I will fight when you ask. I swear it."

The Greek turned to Spitamenes, speaking to him. In return Spitamenes barked orders at Mazeus and his men, throwing a purse of money at Mazeus' feet. Mazeus grabbed it, while his men let go of Hephaistion.

The Greek took his dagger from his belt and cut the ropes that bound Hephaistion's hands. Taking off his cloak, he wrapped it around Hephaistion.

"Good boy," he whispered. "Come, Hephaistion, let's get you home."

PART THIRTY-THREE

They rode through the narrow streets, Hephaistion seated behind The Greek. They arrived at the palace, and for a moment Hephaistion feared that he had been lied to.

The Greek turned and smiled. "I have rooms here," he explained.

They dismounted. Spitamenes spoke briefly, before disappearing in another direction.

A servant ran over for the horses. The Greek put his arm around Hephaistion's waist. "You are weak. Have they made you sick?"

Hephaistion nodded. "They gave me a drink."

"They believe that it is best to purge the body before castration. They were taking a risk with you, you are older than most who endure it."

He led Hephaistion through the palace hallways, finally arriving at his rooms. The Greek pushed the doors open on a large, pleasant room, with dining couches, tables and cushions. Large windows at the far end of the room opened out on to a pleasant garden, a cooling breeze blew through them.

Three men were in the room. Greeks.

"Hephaistion, I would like you to meet, my brother-in-law, Sarpedon," The Greek said, pointing at a tall man, with short, dark curly hair, who smiled on hearing his name. "He is married to my sister, Thetis, he stole her away to Athens.

"Hail! Hephaistion," said Sarpedon, sitting on one of the couches.

"This is Pandarus, the best man with a javelin I have ever known," continued The Greek, pointing to a man who reminded Hephaistion of Cleitus. He was well muscled, with dark hair just touching his shoulders. He had a beard, and did not smile, but nodded in welcome.

"And this is Thalpius, who is just your age, I guess. He is the son of Sarpedon's brother."

"Hail! Hephaistion," Thalpius replied, walking over to look on their new guest. "Memnon said he was going on a mission, but I did not think it would be to bring anyone back. You look dreadful. Where have you been?"

"And as Thalpius has almost introduced me, I am Memnon of Rhodes," said The Greek, helping Hephaistion to a couch before going to pour a cup of wine. He called for a servant, who came running. Speaking in Persian he gave orders to the servant, and then turned to Hephaistion. "I have ordered you a bath, you are a little ripe, my friend."

"Where did you get him?" asked Thalpius.

Memnon held the cup to Hephaistion, encouraging him to drink a little. He looked at Thalpius. "Why must you know everything?"

"He's like an over-anxious puppy, this one," laughed Pandarus, putting his foot to Thalpius' behind, and giving a sharp kick.

Thalpius yelped.

Hephaistion drank a little wine; it was strong. He was overwhelmed by his change in circumstances, still not sure how safe he was.

Sarpedon stood up and came over to Memnon. "Why?" was all he said, looking intently at Memnon.

"Why not?" replied Memnon.

Sarpedon looked down on Hephaistion, and then smiled. "I apologise," he said. "It is not as though you are not welcome here. It is just out of character for Memnon to take such an interest in a slave."

"You were a slave?" cried Thalpius.

"Thalpius!" shouted Memnon. "Go and find something to do, and when you return, make sure you have learned to keep your mouth shut."

Thalpius looked at Sarpedon, his face had flushed red at Memnon's disapproval.

"Do not look at me," said Sarpedon. "You need to learn to be quiet. If you were not my brother's son…"

Thalpius glanced at Hephaistion, and then left the room.

Pandarus put his hand on Hephaistion's shoulder. "You must wonder where you have come. Thalpius is a good boy, he does not mean to be so ill-mannered."

"He just is," smiled Sarpedon.

The servant appeared once more, and spoke to Memnon, bowing low.

"Your bath is ready," Memnon said, and returned to Hephaistion's side to help him up. He gently put a hand to Hephaistion's brow. "You have a slight fever. We shall help you bathe, feed you, then let you sleep. How does that sound?"

Hephaistion smiled. "It sounds good."

Memnon walked alongside Hephaistion, guiding him to the bath. Sarpedon and Pandarus followed behind. Memnon sat at the edge of the bath while Hephaistion washed, then discarded his own chiton to get into the water to wash Hephaistion's hair. He helped him to shave and then Sarpedon held a towel for him to wrap himself in, while Pandarus fetched a clean chiton for him to wear. Then Memnon dried himself and also got dressed. While this was going on, Hephaistion was asked no more questions, but the men spoke amongst themselves of people they knew and battles they had fought in.

When they came back into the room, servants had brought food in and left it on the tables.

"Do not eat too much, Hephaistion," warned Memnon. "It will make you sick, otherwise."

Hephaistion sat on one of the dining chairs. He felt as though he were in a dream, to be clean and well-dressed with a banquet before him. It seemed too long since he had known this life; he felt as if he had never really appreciated the comforts he had until now.

"Thank you for your kindness," he said.

"It is no matter," smiled Memnon, watching as Hephaistion chose some chicken.

Hephaistion saw Sarpedon and Pandarus exchange glances. Memnon saw it too. He shook his head.

"You will make the boy uncomfortable," he said, looking at his two friends. He then looked at Hephaistion. "The satrap, Satibarzanes, was not keen to give you up. Only if I waived my fee for the battle I won, would he relent. You cost a lot, Hephaistion, but do not let it concern you, there will be another battle soon."

"Whom do you fight?" asked Hephaistion.

"Tribes to the north of Miletus. They cause trouble for Satibarzanes; he pays us to stop them. It is easy work for a good soldier."

"But why fight for the Persians?"

Memnon smiled. "They pay the best. If you are a mercenary, like myself, it is a good life. Also, I have a Persian wife, and two sons, I feel a part of the country now."

Hephaistion took a sip of wine. Just the small amount of chicken had made him full, although he looked on the banquet wishing he could eat more. His eyes closed, the warmth of the bath, the relief of his rescue, and the wine, all making him drowsy.

"Come, Hephaistion, I will show you to your room."

Hephaistion stood, and bid Sarpedon and Pandarus a good night. He followed Memnon, down a narrow hallway, to a comfortable room.

"This will be yours," said Memnon. He put his hand on Hephaistion's shoulder. "Remember your promise to me."

Hephaistion nodded.

"Then sleep well."

Memnon left him alone, and Hephaistion undressed, almost falling on to the bed. It was so soft, so luxurious after the days of hardship. He closed his eyes, too tired to think, and fell asleep almost at once.

PART THIRTY-FOUR

"This is my home," said Agathon.

He and Alexander had just galloped up a hill, to see the house below them. Agathon grinned. He could not wait to see his father's face when he rode in with Alexander by his side. How easy had it been? All he had to do was ask.

He turned, to look at the guard, which had been sent to protect Alexander. All very impressive. He looked on Alexander, wishing his hair were not so short, that he did not look so sad all the time. Still, Alexander was here.

He pushed his horse on, Alexander followed. As they approached the house his mother and father appeared to see who was coming. Agathon held his head up high, glancing once more on Alexander. Would his father know who was with him?

They reined in the horses, coming to a halt. Alexander dismounted first and waited for Agathon, before walking alongside him to Agathon's parents.

"Father. Mother," greeted Agathon. "I would like you to meet Alexander." He turned to Alexander. "This is my father, Archelaus, and my mother, Darla." He stepped back as Alexander stepped forward and was greeted by his parents, looking to his father for his approval.

"Alexander! What an honour you do us," said his father. "I hope that you can stay for a while."

Alexander smiled and turned to Agathon. "I think that is what Agathon intends," he said.

"We only have modest hospitality," said his mother.

"Oh, do not worry about that," said Alexander. "I would like to go hunting while I am here. Agathon said that the hunting is good."

"Very good," replied Archelaus. He held out his hand, directing Alexander to enter the house.

Agathon's sisters came running up, trying to compose themselves as Alexander turned to greet them.

"My sisters," said Agathon. "The skinny one is Iris, and the ugly one is Clytemnestra."

Alexander smiled once more, as Iris and Clytemnestra glared at Agathon for his poor introduction.

"Agathon must be blind," he said, and bowed low in greeting.

The girls giggled, and followed Alexander, in awe of him.

As his mother showed Alexander around the garden, Archelaus came over to his son and embraced him. "You do not know how happy this makes me," he said. "What changed the prince's opinion of you?"

Agathon looked down, then realised he did not have to lie. "Hephaistion died. Quite tragically. Alexander took it badly, but I have been able to offer him some comfort and believe he now considers me a close friend."

"He must do, to come here with you," agreed Archelaus

"There are no memories of Hephaistion here," said Agathon, facing the real reason Alexander agreed.

PART THIRTY-FIVE

That evening, Iris appeared, wearing her finest and went to where her father and brother were talking. She wrapped her curled hair around her finger and gazed on Alexander, talking to her mother. "What happened to his hair?" she asked, absentmindedly.

"He cut it. Do not mention it," snapped Agathon.

"You look very pretty, Iris," said Archelaus. "Sit by Alexander tonight when we dine."

Iris beamed.

Darla and Alexander came over. Agathon went to Alexander's side and offered him a cup of wine. Archelaus encouraged Alexander to sit.

"I have arranged a hunt for tomorrow morning. I hope you approve of this?"

"I look forward to it." Alexander drank his wine.

Darla looked around to see who might speak, wishing to fill the silence; she nodded to Archelaus, encouraging him to think of a topic.

"The funniest thing happened," Archelaus began. "Those two rogues, Admetus and Piraeus…after you asked for them to go with you…they did not return."

Agathon flushed. "Tell Alexander of the game we have around here," he said. He looked at Alexander who looked intently on Archelaus.

Archelaus was pleased to have Alexander's interest. There was more to tell. "No, we have not seen them. They were lazy good for nothings, truth be told, but they had been here since Agathon was a boy. They always loved him…would do anything for him…then after they left with him…" Archelaus held his hands up; like it was something he did not have the answer to.

"Alexander, would you like to see the stables? Check on Bucephalus?" suggested Agathon.

Alexander held his hand up to silence Agathon. "Go on," he encouraged Archelaus.

Archelaus smiled. "A few days after they had gone, Piraeus' old horse hobbles, lame, into the stables, but no sign of Admetus and Piraeus themselves…and Piraeus so idle that he would not want to walk anywhere…and Admetus' horse not strong enough to carry two far."

"Perhaps they bought another?" Alexander said.

"No. They had no money."

Alexander looked at the floor, then said that he would be obliged if he could be shown to his room, to wash before dining.

Thetis looked to Agathon, who hesitated before offering to show the way. Alexander said nothing on his way to the room, lost in thought. As Agathon opened the door for him, Alexander looked up.

"Do you think that your father's servants could have had something to do with Hephaistion's murder?"

"Admetus and Piraeus?" cried Agathon, doing his best to look shocked, and not show fear on his face. "Never, Alexander. What gave you that idea?"

"You said your father insisted they went with you, but your father says that you asked if they could journey with you."

Agathon smiled and shook his head. "No, Alexander. My father is a good man, but his memory is not always as good as it was. Admaetus and Piraeus were idle, that is true, but no, they could never kill anyone. If Piraeus' horse came back to the stable lame, then it is because it was useless to them. They may have stolen a horse."

"Would they have tried to take Bucephalus? Hephaistion said that he saw you give them money."

Agathon flushed, he couldn't stop himself. "Not enough, just so they would leave me outside of Pella. Alexander, do not think this, you are wrong. If Piraeus' horse were lame, they were rogues enough to steal another, but not to kill for it. I knew them."

Alexander nodded. "I am sorry, Agathon. I seem to see the worst in all men these days."

"I understand, Alexander. Now go and freshen up and I will see you later," Agathon smiled, with relief.

Alexander went into the room and closed the door. He leaned against it and closed his eyes, unable to stop the feeling that he was close to finding out the truth about Hephaistion. "And they would do anything for him," he said, repeating the words Archelaus had spoken. He saw his mother before him, warning him that Agathon wished to take Hephaistion's place. His suspicions were now on Agathon, and every fibre of his body told him he was right…he just needed proof.

PART THIRTY-SIX

Thalpius crept silently into Hephaistion's room. He had been there twice already and was disappointed to find Hephaistion asleep.

His uncle and Pandarus had gone to the outskirts of the city to be with the army of mercenaries camped there. Memnon had given him the job of taking care of the new boy, but how was he to complete his mission when the boy would not wake up?

This time, though, he was rewarded, when Hephaistion stretched, and opened his eyes.

"I thought you would never wake!" exclaimed Thalpius.

"How late is it?"

"It is mid-morning. Do you always sleep so late?"

Hephaistion propped himself up on one elbow. "No, not usually," he replied.

Thalpius passed him a chiton. "Here, then, get dressed. I will go and have some food brought in." Thalpius smiled, and left the room.

Hephaistion had been dreaming of Alexander. He had expected to wake at Pella. He looked around the room, it was grand enough for a prince, but how he would have traded it for his room back at the barracks. He dressed, combed and braided his hair, then went to find Thalpius.

Thalpius looked over and smiled. "You look better today than you did yesterday! Is it true that Memnon bought you from a slave dealer? Please, do not tell him I asked…only I am curious. Come, there is food."

Hephaistion smiled, and walked over to a table with cold meats, bread, wine, cheese and fruit.

"So? Where did Memnon find you?"

"With a slave dealer," replied Hephaistion, pouring a cup of wine but mixing it with water.

"How long had you been a slave?"

"Not long…although it seems like forever." Hephaistion selected some food, putting it on a plate he walked over to a couch and sat down to eat and drink.

Thalpius sat beside him, struggling to hold himself silent. Memnon had told him not to bother his guest. He studied him instead, noting the handsome face, framed by flowing dark hair, the blue eyes, white teeth. "You are very handsome," he said, unable to stop his thoughts from leaving his lips.

Hephaistion looked at Thalpius, wishing to return a compliment. "And you are kind," he said, noting the small dark eyes, thin lips and fine mousy hair.

"Where is Memnon?" asked Hephaistion.

"Gone to his men, they camp outside the city. He will be back soon. My uncle…Sarpedon, he had me sent over to him, from Athens, to act as his page. He will teach me how to fight. Do you know how to fight?"

"I have been taught," replied Hephaistion, remembering his defeat at Memnon's hands. He drank his wine and ate some meat.

"Where do you come from?" asked Thalpius.

"Macedon," Hephaistion answered. He thought to lie, but his voice held the dialect. He did not wish to lie. He was grateful not to be lying in agony this day… even to have seen the day.

"When you have eaten…if you would like…I will show you around the palace. I'm just finding my way now; it is like a maze at first."

Hephaistion judged that a tour of the palace might stop Thalpius asking so many questions. He nodded his head and Thalpius left him alone to eat.

When he was done, the tour began. Thalpius tried to show how the palace was mapped out, and how easy it was to locate Memnon's rooms within them, but Hephaistion still felt lost.

They came into the hall, where he had stood while the satrap looked at him. Hephaistion shivered at the memory, he hadn't known at the time what plans they were making for him. They entered the hall through the door, which Memnon had come through.

Thalpius led him to a window and pointed across a courtyard. "That is the harem," he said. "We are not allowed there."

He took Hephaistion out into the gardens, talking constantly about his life in Athens, of Memnon, his family, his plans for glory. Hephaistion thought of Alexander.

"The satrap!" Thalpius whispered urgently, grabbing on to Hephaistion's chiton to stop him walking any further forward.

It was too late; they had been seen.

The satrap, Satibarzanes, was also walking in the garden. Hephaistion recognised Spitamenes as one of the men with him. As well as four guards, he also had another three noble men with him. He smiled, on seeing Hephaistion, and then appeared to realise who he was.

He leaned back, raising a fat hand to his lips, he whispered to Spitamenes, who nodded, and replied, and then he advanced towards Hephaistion.

"I am not his?" asked Hephaistion, looking on Thalpius as if he might know the answer. He could see lust in Satibarzanes' eyes. He stepped back, but Satibarzanes signalled the guard to surround Hephaistion.

Thalpius stepped back. "I will fetch help," he cried, and ran off.

The satrap put his hand on Hephaistion's shoulder, then grasped a lock of his hair, leaning into smell the scent of it.

Spitamenes stepped up, flustered, he bowed low, speaking to the satrap, mentioning Memnon.

"Memnon," said Hephaistion, putting his hand to his chest. "Memnon," he repeated.

Satibarzanes laughed, and put a fat finger over Hephaistion's lips.

A shout went up, and Hephaistion turned to see Memnon striding through the garden, Thalpius, Sarpedon, and Pandarus right behind him. Memnon was angry; he took Hephaistion's arm and pulled him back, standing in front of him, protecting him.

Angry words were spoken, and then the satrap seemed to back down, actually bowing before Memnon. As a gesture, Memnon put his hand on the satrap's shoulder, before turning and signalling that Hephaistion and the others should head inside the palace.

They went back to Memnon's quarters, Sarpedon berating Thalpius with every step,

Hephaistion relieved that Memnon had returned.

A short while after, Memnon entered the room. He turned on Thalpius. "Are you the son of an idiot?" he admonished. "I told you to take care of him, not put him in the path of a man who could harm him!"

Thalpius blushed and looked at the floor.

"I am sorry for the trouble he is causing," said Sarpedon. "I'd like to take him back to camp."

"We all should go, anyway," added Pandarus. "The men are eager to fight."

Memnon nodded. "It would be for the best. If our information is correct and our old friend Nabunaid is stirring up the tribes to battle, we are best to meet him half way than at the gates of Miletus." He looked at Hephaistion. "It would be better than staying here, Satibarzanes is regretting his agreement and I do not trust him further than I could throw him."

"So when do we leave?" asked Pandarus.

"First thing in the morning. Now, I would appreciate it if you left me alone with Hephaistion."

Sarpedon practically pushed Thalpius through the door, Pandarus winked at Memnon before he closed it behind himself.

Memnon sighed. "I apologise, Hephaistion. I promised you that the satrap would not touch you."

"He hardly did."

Memnon poured two cups of wine, handing one to Hephaistion, instructing him to sit.

"When I was in my youth, I slept with a man called Aias," Memnon laughed, and took a large sip of wine. "He was an old man. I respected him, although I cannot say I enjoyed my time with him. Now, I am married to Barsine, I do not crave the love of a man."

Hephaistion did not reply, but took a sip of his own wine.

"Have you ever been with a man, Hephaistion?"

Hephaistion looked at Memnon. He had been kind; he deserved an honest answer. He looked at the floor. "Yes."

"With an old man like Aias?"

Hephaistion shook his head.

"With Alexander?"

Hephaistion gazed up.

Memnon smiled. "I have my answer."

"How do you know? How could you know?" Hephaistion knew that he and Alexander had been discreet. Only a few at Pella would be aware…how could a mercenary in Persia know?

Memnon took a drink of his wine, and then put the cup down. Leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, he spoke quietly. "Life in Persia is not always easy. A few years ago I had cause to seek safety in Macedon…I went to Pella. There I saw Alexander, as a young boy, and his friend and constant companion. They were closer than brothers. I watched them playing together in a courtyard, heard them talk, heard them laugh together. Alexander's friend was called Hephaistion…and he had eyes as blue as the sea. When I first saw you, I could see the nobility. That is why I followed you and made you fight…I needed to know if my gut feeling was right…and it was."

He smiled. "So you are Alexander's lover? I thought that might happen…I'm glad it did. It somehow seems right."

"So will you help me to return to Pella? Or am I your hostage…or your servant, still?"

"You are my servant, Hephaistion, you will stay here in Persia with me. This will be our secret. I will tell anyone who asks that you are the son of a noble, that will explain how you can fight."

Hephaistion put down his cup of wine and looked at the floor. Then he looked once more on Memnon. "Could I write to Alexander? To let him know…"

"Where you are?" Memnon laughed and shook his head. "What good would that do? Do you expect him to come with an army to fetch you home? Or to offer gold for your safe return? I am rich enough, Hephaistion, and Alexander has no army…yet."

"Philip plans to invade," said Hephaistion, sharing a known fact. "I can not fight another Macedonian."

"Then you will die, Hephaistion." Memnon shrugged. "I have lost friends already in this life."

"Do not make me lose Alexander," whispered Hephaistion.

"How did you lose him before?"

Hephaistion told Memnon the story of how he had been taken. Memnon listened sympathetically, but when the tale was done, he still remained firm in his resolve to keep Hephaistion close.

"It would be a simple thing to see you on a ship and return you to Pella. You gave Alexander strength, he trusted you. You can see how it would not be a wise thing to return something so valuable to an enemy? It could end up with one getting killed for such a costly mistake. I am sorry, Hephaistion, but give it time and perhaps the pain of separation will ease, perhaps you can make a new life here in Persia, as I did."

Memnon looked at Hephaistion. He hoped that by the time Philip launched his invasion Hephaistion would have formed new allegiances, with new friends. Pelias, an experienced soldier, had a certain similarity to Alexander; it would do no harm to put the boy in his care. "I have letters to write, Hephaistion. You should rest."

Hephaistion went into his room. He lay upon his bed, too confused for sleep he considered the conversation he had just had, understanding why Memnon would not let him return to Alexander, wishing he had not pledged himself, fearing what might have been, longing for the past.

PART THIRTY-SEVEN

The next morning, Alexander rose early and dressed before heading down to the stables. Another day's hunting had been arranged, but Alexander planned a hunt of his own first. The hunt for proof. The hunt for answers.

He went to Bucephalus. A servant had just fetched corn for the stallion. Alexander watched him eat it, watching the man as he fed the other horses. Coming out of the stable he approached the man. "You enjoy your work?"

The man nodded. "Though I have only recently been looking after the horses. Is anything wrong?"

"No. Nothing. You seem to know what you are about, you are confident with the horses."

The man smiled. "Oh yes, I love the horses. When Admetus and Piraeus…they worked here before…when they were here the horses weren't well cared for. They were fed but the stables were not so clean."

"Why would Archelaus keep them here, if he had someone as trustworthy as you?"

"They had been here for years. The master was happy enough. They used to work in the house but they got too close to Agathon…I should not be telling you this."

"I'm sorry, I do not know your name. I am Alexander."

"Melas…my name is Melas."

Alexander smiled. "Archelaus spoke of Admetus and Piraeus last night."

This seemed to give Melas the excuse to talk. "I only came here when Agathon was thirteen, you must understand. Admetus and Piraeus had been here for some time before. Young Agathon was tutored here, his father wanting him to learn what was needed to run a place like this. Whenever he could, Agathon would get away from his tutor and run to find Admetus and Piraeus. So the master had them take up their duties in the stables, but that only made things worse. They would go off with Agathon, they were not good men and if anything he learned more from the two of them than from his tutor."

"Archelaus said that Piraeus' horse came back."

Melas smiled and hurried to show Alexander the stable containing an elderly horse, which hobbled over for attention. "This is the horse. He is still lame but with care I think I can fix him."

"It is odd that after so many years Admetus and Piraeus should choose to leave, just after Archelaus asked them to accompany Agathon to Pella."

Melas shook his head. "No. It was Agathon who wanted them to ride back with him. I was here when Eudorus came and told them."

Alexander patted the old horse's neck.

Melas, enjoying the attention from Alexander, thought what else he could say. "They were rogues. Admetus had been a soldier; he used to brag that he thought no more of killing than to walk across the room. Piraeus was sly, greedy. We quarrelled once and I lay awake for a week in fear that Piraeus would get Admetus to see me off."

"But he did not?"

"No. I spoke with Agathon, they would always do what he bid them. I do not know why, perhaps they all recognised something in the other. He told them I was to be left alone. You are hunting today?"

"Yes. I shall go back to the house and eat first."

"Please, Sire, do not tell anyone we have had this conversation."

Alexander smiled. "Nobody."

He went into the garden. A mixture of pain, hate, and anger was welling up inside of him. He had to suppress it. He had a picture in his mind of the two servants attacking Hephaistion. Dragging him from Bucephalus, a dagger at his throat. Sent on the orders of Agathon. Alexander took a deep breath. He had been the cause after all.

"Alexander! I have been looking for you." Agathon came running over.

"I was just coming back to the house."

"Food is served, then we shall hunt. It was fun yesterday. Do you like it here? My family are all taken with you. Iris is attracted to you."

"And you would not mind?"

"Mind?"

"If I spent time with Iris, instead of you."

Agathon's face reddened. "I enjoy your company, Alexander. Is that what you wish? That I should come to you tonight?"

"I loved Hephaistion." Alexander gazed on Agathon, to gauge his reaction as he said the words. Agathon went pale, looked guilty, then swallowed hard as if to bury it down.

"I know you did. Perhaps in time I could take his place." Agathon reached to run his fingers through Alexander's cropped hair.

Alexander moved away from the touch. "Nobody can take his place. Only a fool would think they could." He walked past Agathon, to the house. By the time he reached it he had calmed his temper once more, and nobody inside thought anything wrong as he joined them to eat.

Agathon was conspicuous by his absence, only appearing as they prepared to hunt. He smiled at Alexander, who feigned ignorance, wheeling Bucephalus around to gallop off, followed by the guard.

PART THIRTY-EIGHT

At the end of the day's hunting, Alexander retired to his rooms, to bathe.

When he reappeared, he went out into the garden, alone, and disappeared from sight. Iris had been waiting for him. She hesitated, before following Alexander's path. He was not in the garden. She was reluctant to return to the house, it had taken her an age to look as good as she did now. Clytemnestra would laugh at her ruined attempt to seduce Alexander.

She wandered over to an olive grove, looking around all the time for any sight of her prey. Then she turned and headed for the stables, suspecting that Alexander might be with his beloved horse. She saw him then, talking with two men from his guard. She watched him, not caring what he was saying, just wondering how handsome he would be when his hair grew longer. What a queen she would make for him.

As Alexander headed back towards the garden, she moved away quickly, sitting herself on a bench.

"The flowers are not the only things of beauty in this garden."

It was Alexander. Iris smiled, and stood to be greeted. Alexander kissed her hand, then held it so that she would walk with him. She was mesmerised by his attentions. He led her into a laurel grove, where the foliage was thick, affording them the most privacy. He put his hand on her waist. She closed her eyes anticipating that he might kiss her. She had never been kissed, she longed for the experience.

When the expected kiss never came, she opened her eyes. Alexander was looking on her, smiling.

"I would not take advantage," he said, moving his hand from her waist.

"But you are tempted?" asked Iris, longing to feel his touch once more.

"You are very attractive, Iris, but this is your father's house…it would not be right."

"I long to go to Pella."

Alexander pulled her into an embrace. "I would take you there, if your father would only allow it."

"Oh, he would allow you anything," cried Iris. "You are a prince, he can not deny you. Will you ask him? Will you ask if I can go?"

Alexander laughed. "Go fetch him to me. I will wait here." He cupped Iris' face in his hands and kissed her gently on the lips.

Iris stepped back; her eyes open wide. She turned and ran for the house. Alexander laughed again to see her go.

He only waited a minute, and then heard footsteps. Agathon appeared.

"I was told you wanted to see me, Alexander."

"I need to say something, Agathon."

"Anything."

Alexander took a breath. "What if I told you that I suspected you of plotting Hephaistion's murder?"

Agathon looked aghast, fearful. He stuttered before he could speak, and then seemed to have trouble in phrasing a sentence. "I…how, Alexander?"

"When your father spoke of Admetus and Piraeus last night. He said they would do anything for you. I suspected then, that you had asked them to kill Hephaistion. But why would you want to do that?"

Agathon turned his back on Alexander, bringing his hand up to cover his face. Then he slowly turned back. "He was your friend. I would never have…"

"He was my dearest friend. Irreplaceable. Whoever took his life, took away my life, too."

"It would have been a mistake…"

"Yes. My mistake." Alexander smiled, and embraced Agathon. "In my grief I suspected you. Sometimes I think I see things so clearly. Perhaps another time I may think it again…I do not know. It seemed so clear to me."

Agathon laughed with relief. "Yes. So do you still suspect me?"

"Is this a confession?" Alexander laughed, and slapped Agathon on the shoulder. "I found something that might point to the murderer. Will you wait here while I fetch it to you, I would appreciate your advice?"

Agathon watched as Alexander left. He was unnerved. For a moment he thought that Alexander had found him out. There had been a change in Alexander's attitude towards him. For a moment, but things were all right now. He tried to calm himself, but it was as if Alexander could see into his soul, and see the truth there.

He had not thought it through enough. Timotheus replaced the cricket, replacing the one he had lost because it never really meant that much to him. Hephaistion's death was not something that Alexander could ever truly recover from. Hephaistion would never be replaced because Alexander would rather be alone than seek false company. Alexander said he would think on it again. What if next time he stayed sure on his opinion and proved him guilty?

"Agathon!"

He turned; his father was approaching. "Father."

"What is wrong? Have you seen Alexander?"

"Just now."

"Why are you not with him? You should make the most of your chances."

"Alexander is not himself, father. He still grieves for Hephaistion."

"Then go to him."

"He does not want me."

"He will need someone, it might as well be you. Go to him now."

"I cannot." Agathon hugged himself. "I cannot because he will see…he will see the truth."

"What are you talking about?"

"He knows father, because of what you said last night. Alexander is no fool, I have learned that much. He knows."

"Knows what?"

"I tried to be his friend, father. I truly did. I tried to spend time with him, but he just does not like me that much. He was always with Hephaistion. I thought if Hephaistion was gone…"

"What are you telling me?" Archelaus grasped Agathon's arms and shook him. "What have you done?"

Agathon lifted his face to his father's. "I had Hephaistion killed. Admetus and Piraeus, they did it…I paid them to do it. I thought then Alexander would need me, but he didn't."

"If he knows, why has he not said anything?"

"He just did, but then he said that he was wrong to suspect me. He will not rest until he has found the truth, though. I cannot be near him, he will see it in my eyes."

"You idiot!" hissed Archelaus. "You must leave. Now!"

"Where will I go?"

"Anywhere, I don't care. You shame us all."

"What about Alexander? What will you tell him?"

"There is no need to tell me anything." Alexander stepped out from behind a laurel bush where he had been hiding. As he stepped forward, two of his guard stepped out behind him, their swords drawn. Alexander turned to them. "You heard it?"

The guards looked at each other. One of them spoke. "Yes, Sire."

Alexander walked up to Agathon. "You are as guilty of murder, as if you had done the deed yourself. And what was the deed? To kill the other half of my soul. How could you ever think you could replace him?"

"Hephaistion…"

Agathon never got to finish his sentence, Alexander's blow to the jaw knocked him to the ground.

"Do not speak his name," Alexander said.

Agathon's face crumpled in fear. He began to tremble. "What will you do? Will you have me executed? Father! Help me!"

Iris appeared, and ran to her father's arms. Archelaus took a last look at Agathon, then turned towards the house, and walked slowly away.

"Alexander! I regret what I did. I just wanted to be your friend. Please! Alexander! I do not deserve to be executed…all I wanted was your friendship! Alexander!"

Alexander looked coldly on Agathon. "As Hephaistion did not deserve to be executed, all he ever wanted was my friendship, my love…nothing more." He turned to the guards. "See to him. We head for Pella tonight."

PART THIRTY-NINE

Hephaistion rode the grey to the brow of the hill, looking over the camp below. Tomorrow there would be a battle, which would prove decisive for the victor. Nabunaid had regrouped, but his men, although brave and eager, were ill trained against Memnon's forces.

It had been three months now that he had served Memnon. He had made new friends but he still longed for Alexander.

He had only tried to ask Memnon to release him once more. The reply had been such a definite refusal; he knew it was wise not to ask again.

He headed back to the camp, looking for Pelias, but he could not see him. He dismounted and tended to his horse. Then he fetched Memnon's armour to clean it. Memnon provided for him. Hephaistion was given no money, but food, clothes, armour, weapons and a horse. In return he would work.

Caenus, Thessalus and Glaucus came over to him, sitting by him as he worked. They were the same age as Hephaistion, and amongst the first to befriend him when he came to the camp.

"Hail, Hephaistion," they said in greeting.

Hephaistion smiled. "Have you no work to do?"

"None," replied Thessalus. "Everything is in order, it is just the waiting now."

"Nabunaid will learn his lesson tomorrow," smiled Hephaistion.

"Do you think so?" asked Glaucus.

"Are you afraid?" laughed Caenus.

"Wait until Philip's army gets here, as one day soon it will," said Thessalus. "Then you will know fear. Tomorrow's battle does not worry me."

"Fear is a good thing to take into battle. So long as you conquer it," said Hephaistion, stopping his work for long enough to reach out to Glaucus.

Glaucus smiled and picked up a cloth to help Hephaistion. "Memnon is a great leader. I feel safe with him, even against the Macedonian army."

Hephaistion put his mind to his task. He did not know what he would do when Philip invaded. The thought of Alexander filled his mind. Would he escape and go to his side, forgetting his word of honour to Memnon? Or would he seek death in the first battle, with Alexander never knowing they were so close?

"I thought you would have done by now, Hephaistion."

Hephaistion looked up. Pelias was there, laughing at him.

"I have almost finished."

"With Glaucus' help, I see," said Pelias. "Thalpius was by here earlier. He was looking for you, he said you promised to give him some sword practice."

"Oh, Thalpius." Hephaistion had forgotten. He looked at the armour; it was shining brightly enough. Getting to his feet, he brushed the dust from his chiton.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Thalpius."

"There is no hurry. He has had his practice. I gave it to him."

Hephaistion smiled. "Thank you, Pelias."

"Now, if your three friends here, will take the armour back to Memnon, you and I will eat." Pelias threw his arm around Hephaistion's shoulder. Caenus, Thessalus and Glaucus each picked up a piece of the armour and hurried off to Memnon's tent, hoping to earn some praise.

"I have just been with Memnon," said Pelias. "Tomorrow you fight with me, as usual. We are to ride from the left flank and encircle Nabunaid's men, drive them forward…"

"So that the infantry can pick them off."

Pelias pulled Hephaistion towards him. "You enjoy the battle, don't you?"

Hephaistion nodded. "I feel free when I am fighting."

"Perhaps if you fight well tomorrow…perhaps when the battle is won, Memnon may have a change of heart and free you from your promise."

"You say that before every fight, Pelias."

Pelias brushed a strand of hair from Hephaistion's face. "We are close, are we not?"

"Yes," whispered Hephaistion, looking on Pelias, and seeing Alexander.

"Then why do I not feel that I know you? Not all of you. There is something you keep hidden…here." He placed his hand on Hephaistion's heart. "There is some great sadness in you. I see it all the time. When you smile there is still pain within your eyes."

"I cannot say, Pelias." Hephaistion looked over to Memnon's tent. Memnon was there, talking to Pandarus.

Pelias followed Hephaistion's eyes. "Memnon knows, doesn't he?"

"He bought me, I gave him my word that I would serve him."

"He bought me too, Hephaistion. He also has my word, but I can walk away. You think that because he got you from a slave market…"

Hephaistion gazed on Pelias. Within a few days of his arrival, thanks to Thalpius, everyone in camp knew of the circumstances that had brought him to Persia. Memnon had also let it be known that he was a noble man's son from Macedonia, and no more. It was Memnon's way of protecting him. "I am his servant, Pelias. He has his reasons, he will never let me go. You can walk away…I will always be here."

Pelias looked around, then leaned forward and brushed his lips against Hephaistion's. It was something he had never done before. "Then I will stay," he whispered.

Hephaistion brought his fingers to his lips. He gazed on Pelias.

"I am sorry, Hephaistion," said Pelias, as if coming to his senses. "I have just wanted to do that for so long. Please, don't look like that." Pelias laughed. "It was just a foolish notion…"

"I cannot," murmured Hephaistion, tears filling his eyes.

"Ah, Hephaistion. I just wanted to chase the sadness away, not cause you any more grief." He went to embrace Hephaistion, but Hephaistion stepped back, turning quickly and running away from the camp. "Hephaistion!" Pelias called after him.

"What is the matter?"

Pelias turned. Memnon was by his side. "How much to buy Hephaistion's freedom?" he asked.

"The boy is not for sale." Memnon studied Pelias. "I thought he might come to love you, not that you would come to love him."

Pelias' face reddened, he looked to the ground and fidgeted. "Then you have the two of us enslaved."

"Hephaistion is no slave. He is my servant. We have an agreement. I keep him warm and fed, he stays with me, fights for me and is loyal. He just needs time to forget the past."

"And what is his past?" snapped Pelias. "He will not talk of it, although I know the memory of it causes him pain. Have I not been loyal to you? Will you not tell me what you know?"

Memnon put his hand on Pelias' shoulder. "Pelias, how many years have we known each other? Five? Six? Do you remember how you felt when you first arrived in Persia? I do. You were homesick all the time…for a long time."

Pelias nodded. "It took a while, I admit that."

"That is all that is wrong with Hephaistion. Just give him time. He is well-liked." Memnon squeezed Pelias' shoulder. "By some more than others," he laughed, and went to walk away.

"He will not fight the Macedonians. You cannot expect him to."

Memnon stopped, turning back to Pelias. "He will. Philip is not close to invasion, yet, but he will fight them."

"He will die, Memnon. Can you not see it? For pity's sake let the boy go, before you kill him. Do not have his death on your conscience."

"Harden your feelings, Pelias. You talk like a girl," snapped Memnon, this time walking away and not looking back.

PART FORTY

Philip sighed.

"What is it?" asked Parmenion, sipping his wine.

"You know where he is…he is with the whore. He is spending too much time with her, he is changing…and all my efforts gone to waste."

"She is his mother," said Antipater.

"She fills his mind with poison," added Attalus.

"I asked him to be with us tonight," said Philip, struggling up from the couch. "If he is not with her, he is alone. He has no time for his friends; he carries out his duties with the Vanguard, then retires to his room. The life has gone from him, and what is left is being shaped and moulded by her. All since he discovered that this Agathon was responsible…"

"He wanted the boy executed," said Cleitus. "Your decision to put the boy in exile…" Cleitus shook his head. "In my opinion it was a mistake, he should have been executed."

"It was a stroke of brilliance, how Alexander proved the boy's guilt," Antipater added.

Philip sat back down on his couch, and put his head in his hands. "We have proof that Agathon intended to have Hephaistion killed, but we have no trace of the two rogues he sent out to do the job. So how can I be sure that they did the deed?"

"Well, someone did," said Cleitus, pouring himself more wine. "And Pella is not so full of rogues and murderers as you would have us believe."

Philip sighed once more. "I should have had the boy executed."

"It is too late now," said Parmenion.

Philip drank some more of his wine, then threw the cup down. "I had him, Parmenion. When he came back from Mieza, he was the son I always wanted. I've always loved him…always been proud of him, but she kept him close. When he was at Mieza he got free of her."

"He was with Hephaistion," said Cleitus. "You owed a lot to that boy. Olympias hated him, because he was a threat. She could have had him killed…have you thought of that?"

The room went silent, each man looking at the other.

"She feeds on his grief, turns him against me."

"He was angry with you, Philip. You denied him what he thought was his by right. Vengeance for his friend," said Parmenion.

"You should take another wife, have another son," proposed Attalus, aware of Philip's interest in his niece, Eurydice.

"Get him away from her," suggested Cleitus.

"Send him as an envoy…somewhere, like Athens," added Antipater.

"Athens?"

"It is as good a place as any," continued Antipater. "Send Alexander there, on the pretext of gaining their goodwill, before you call on their men to go with you to Persia.

"Forget him, marry a Macedonian girl," said Attalus, raising his voice to be heard.

"We could do with the Athenians' goodwill," Parmenion said, turning to Philip. "What do you say?"

"Athens then…we will send him to Athens."

PART FORTY-ONE

Memnon had required Hephaistion that morning. He had fetched his horse and helped him into his armour. Listening all the time as Memnon spoke to his most trusted men, learning the entire battle strategy. Memnon had a genius for battle. He lived for it. He had two sons - Hephaistion wondered how he ever found the time - he wrote letters home, but never talked of going home. The men, who had seen her, said his wife was beautiful.

He helped Memnon on to his horse, then hurried off to put on his own armour, pick up his sword and shield, and fetch his own horse. Thalpius came cantering up to him, looking for Sarpedon. Hephaistion had to direct him to the right flank. He feared for Thalpius, he was a poor soldier, he shook with terror before every battle, mumbling prayers to the Gods to protect him. However, he would not admit his fear, wanting his uncle, Sarpedon, to be proud of him.

"Hephaistion!" Glaucus was calling him. "I am supposed to be with Thessalus, have you seen him?"

"Not since this morning, look on the right flank. Thalpius is just heading there now, follow him."

"I'll wait a moment. Thalpius' fear can be infectious." He looked at Hephaistion. "Has Memnon kept you busy?"

"I don't mind it," replied Hephaistion, leaping on to his horse.

"You need a better horse," said Glaucus.

"And what would I buy it with? I have nothing. This horse is not so bad."

"You have worked hard to get him fitter, and he has more meat on his bones, than before," agreed Glaucus. "Keep safe, Hephaistion."

Hephaistion watched as Glaucus disappeared into the ranks of men. He stroked his horse's neck. He had realised, when Memnon gave him the horse, that he still suspected he might break his word. The horse had no stamina, if he intended to escape on it, he would not get far.

He pushed the horse on and headed to the left flank. Thessalus called a greeting as he galloped by, he was headed to the right, Glaucus would find him. He could see Pelias, talking to the men in his command, stirring them to battle. Just one more battle. And then what? To ready themselves for a Macedonian invasion?

He looked up to see an eagle flying overhead. The sign of Zeus, a good omen for the battle. He looked over at Pelias and smiled. He had returned to camp early evening, nothing more had been said. Pelias grinned at him and Hephaistion rode to his side.

"Have you eaten?" asked Pelias.

"There was no time."

"Well, this should not take long."

An arrow flew into the air from Nebunaid's army. It fell short of its mark.

"They are nervous," said Pelias. "You have your sword, Hephaistion?"

Hephaistion laughed. It was something Pelias always asked him. He gave the same answer. "Do you have yours?"

Pelias tapped his sword, and winked at Hephaistion. A cry went up from the ranks; Nebunaid's men were beginning their attack. Pelias wheeled his horse around and called to his men to hold steady, to wait the order to move. Memnon wanted Nebunaid's men to advance far enough so that the cavalry could swing round and trap them. It was a classic move, and if Nebunaid had any sense, he would be aware of it, but Nebunaid acted on emotion rather than logic.

Hephaistion looked along the ranks of men, seeing the infantry had begun to fight. They held the strength in numbers and experience. Nebunaid should have known to stay in his bed this morning; instead Satibarzanes would have his head on a stake outside of the palace.

"Now!" cried Pelias, spurring his horse into a gallop. He headed to the left, to begin the sweeping move that would trap the enemy.

Hephaistion spurred his horse. He lost sight of Pelias, but followed in his wake. As they turned to close the net, a cloud of arrows rained down on the leading horses. Orders came down the line to turn in, they could still close the net but they needed to get out of range of the archers and engage the enemy.

Hephaistion followed the command and drew his sword, galloping over to attack. He gave a war cry, and galloped through the Persian ranks, cutting down men as he went. Glancing to his left and right he saw the others do the same.

He wheeled his horse around. Now they had engaged the enemy, Nebunaid's archers were retreating, and moving to another position. "With me! With me!" cried Hephaistion, pushing his horse forward. In the heat of battle the others followed, not sure where the command was coming from.

As the archers heard their approach they turned to make a stand. Some were able to fire on the rapidly advancing cavalry; others were cut down where they stood. Hephaistion looked for Nebunaid, but he was not in sight. Once more, he turned his horse and headed to the thick of battle, with the others.

The Persian tribesmen soon began to lose heart. Hephaistion suspected that Nebunaid might have been captured or killed. They quickly went into retreat. It was his job now to follow and cut down as many as he could. When that was done he headed to Memnon's tent, he always had to report back first.

It took him a while; his horse was spent. He dismounted and led it back, looking for those he knew as he walked. His arm was cut, but it would heal of its own accord. He was hot and tired, and would have taken off his helmet, but then he would just have to carry it.

When he reached Memnon's tent, Memnon was just walking away from it. He saw Hephaistion. "Good lad," he said, patting Hephaistion's back. "I have to go, Sarpedon is badly injured; I must be with him."

"Does Thalpius know?" asked Hephaistion.

Memnon nodded. "He was there when it happened, Sarpedon was saving his life."

Memnon hurried away. Hephaistion removed his helmet, letting it fall to the ground. There was water in a bucket, he scooped some up and took a drink, then washed his face.

"Hephaistion!" It was Thessalus. He rode over, and dismounted. "They got Nebunaid, I saw it. Pandarus got him with a javelin shot, straight to the heart." Thessalus enacted the moment, for Hephaistion's benefit.

"Have you seen any of the others?" asked Hephaistion.

"I've seen Caenus…and you…that's all."

"Sarpedon is injured, Memnon has just gone to him. Thalpius survived the battle. Have you seen Pelias?"

"I just rode by your tent. I saw some of his men, but I didn't see him."

"Let me have your horse, Thessalus."

"What for?"

"I need to find Pelias."

Thessalus handed Hephaistion the reins, and then reached to take Hephaistion's grey. He watched as Hephaistion leaped on to his horse's back, then checked that Memnon was nowhere in sight. He'd suddenly remembered that Memnon had told them not to let Hephaistion on their horses. It was too late now; Hephaistion was galloping away from him.

PART FORTY-TWO

Hephaistion checked around the camp, asking if anyone had seen Pelias. Nobody had. With a sense of dread, he headed to the battlefield, the only place left to look. He used the landscape to find his way to where Pelias should have been when the archers struck. When he was sure he was at the place, he dismounted, and let the horse go.

Pelias wore a helmet with a white plume, and two long black feathers, either side. It was distinctive. Hephaistion closed his eyes, and saw Pelias tapping his sword and winking at him, saw him leading the attack, before he lost sight of him.

"Pelias!" Hephaistion called. He scanned the ground. Men lay injured. In the distance, he could see other soldiers, looking for their comrades too. As he searched, he prayed to the Gods, that Pelias would be at the camp, right now, that when he returned after a fruitless search, Pelias would be there. That he would laugh at him; remind him that he had a reputation for luck on the battlefield.

"Pelias!" The arrows had rained down. He saw Exadius, one of Pelias' men, lying dead. He hurried over; Exadius would have ridden close to Pelias. He stood by the body; two arrows had found their mark. He saw Polyphemus and Meges, both dead. "Pelias!" he called. Surely he could hear him now.

Hephaistion turned in every direction. Scanning the field, until he saw Pelias and hurried to him. As he ran, he could see Pelias looking at him. Hephaistion smiled, he would fetch his friend help and all would be well. "Pelias," he called. "You had me so afraid, I feared you were…dead." Hephaistion faltered to a halt, as he realised Pelias' eyes were gazing on nothing.

Hephaistion fell to his knees, beside his friend's body; he reached forward and lifted Pelias into his arms. As he did so, he felt the broken arrow shaft. It had gone through Pelias' armour and into his back, such was the force of it. Looking down, he saw another arrow in his thigh, another in his heel. He thought of Achilles, and his own Achilles, Alexander. Pelias would often remind him of Alexander.

He rocked the body in his arms, and told Pelias of his love for Alexander. It was all right to say it now, and Pelias should know, he deserved to know. Overcome with grief, Hephaistion found it hard to speak. He kissed Pelias' lips; he would not deny him in death what he could not give him in life. His love.

PART FORTY-THREE

Alexander watched as the servants brought in wine. He had a thirst. He looked at Antipater, who shook his head at him. It would not do for him to get drunk in front of his Athenian hosts.

Alexander sighed, and turned to feign interest in what Deucalion was saying. The servants were pouring the wine. Turning his back on Antipater he picked up his cup and drank.

He had not wanted to come to Athens. When he found he had no say in the matter, he asked that his companions be allowed to travel with him. This was denied. His father had pointed out to him, that as he had chosen to isolate himself from them, he saw no need for them to accompany him. Antipater was chosen instead.

Of all his father's generals he liked him the best. The man was knowledgeable, diplomatic and fair. Alexander thought of him as a favourite uncle. Parmenion was too stuffy, Cleitus too disinterested and Attalus too sly.

He laughed as he drank his wine. Attalus. His mother hated him. She was sure, that he was hoping Eurydice would lure his father to her bed.

Deucalion had stopped talking. He was looking on Alexander as if expecting a reply

"I need some air," said Alexander, and stood up.

The room went quiet. Alexander was the guest of honour at the banquet. After the banquet, a play was being staged at the theatre. A tragedy. Alexander sat back down. He was not drunk; he needed more wine for that. What he didn't need was a tragedy to sit through. He had already had one of his own.

They had sent him here to keep him from his mother. She had suspected Agathon, and had raged with him when execution was denied. She'd offered him comfort, and when that wasn't enough, then wine would stop the pain a little.

He always felt he was destined for greatness, but he'd always imagined that Hephaistion would be at his side. Now he felt as if the Gods had denied him his destiny. He would die without glory, either as an old man in his bed, or by an assassin's poison or knife.

Deucalion was talking again. This time it was about the play. Alexander smiled. "How long do you think that Achilles would have lived, without his Patroclus?" he asked. "If Paris' arrow had not hit the mark?"

Deucalion looked stunned. "But this is not a play about Troy," he said.

"Alexander has a fondness for Homer," said Antipater, tactfully signalling to a servant not to refill Alexander's cup.

Alexander turned to Antipater. "I am lost," he whispered.

Antipater put his hand on Alexander's shoulder. Alexander truly was lost. Philip was already discounting him, he had his eyes on Eurydice and hopes for another son, one he could mould without Olympias' influence. He looked at Alexander. He loved him as much as his own son, Cassander, and felt pain that he was so alone. Athens had been a mistake.

Deucalion stood up and clapped his hands, signalling that they should go to the theatre. Alexander got to his feet. He thanked his hosts for the banquet. They gathered around him as he left the room, and made his way out on to the street.

Athenians crowded the street, calling his name. Alexander waved and smiled, as any prince should, who has been sent to win the goodwill of the people.

"Alexander!"

Eurytos walked alongside Alexander. "Do you like our city, Alexander?" he asked. "Or do you miss Pella? I hear that your father is determined to bring culture to the north."

"Alexander!"

"Anywhere is home," replied Alexander. Two young girls were waving from a balcony. He waved back, and their nurse came and scolded them, shooing them indoors, before she turned to shyly wave.

"Alexander!"

"I think you will enjoy our theatre," said Clonius, stepping forward. He wanted to say more but Alexander came to a halt, listening, looking around at the crowds. A strange look came over his face, as he heard his name called once more. Then a man pushed through the crowd, attempting to get near him.

"Hephaistion!" Alexander stepped forward. "Leave him!" he ordered the guards, who were attempting to block his way. "Hephaistion," he said, rushing to embrace his friend, holding him tightly. If it were a dream, it was a good dream.

"I never thought that I would see you again," whispered Hephaistion, shaking and laughing at the same time, clinging to Alexander. He pulled back a little to soak in Alexander's face, and then embraced him again.

"I thought you were dead," Alexander was stunned, almost speechless.

"I've missed you so much. Every day. Every moment."

"Hephaistion?" Antipater stepped forward, thinking he was seeing a ghost.

Not letting go of Alexander, Hephaistion looked over at Antipater and nodded. Tears were in his eyes; his face glowed with love and happiness. He ran his hands through Alexander's hair.

Alexander stepped back, but held his hands on Hephaistion's waist. "It has grown," he said, knowing that Hephaistion would understand. He saw Hephaistion smile, and once more felt the bliss of drowning in the pools of blue. "What are you doing here? Is this where you have been?"

"Hephaistion." A boy ran over, hesitating as the guards moved forward. "Hephaistion, we were supposed to stay together, you will get us in trouble."

Alexander looked at the boy, and then at Hephaistion. They were both wearing black. "He is with you?"

Hephaistion turned to the boy. "We have time, wait here, Thalpius." He turned back to Alexander, not speaking, just gazing on him.

Deucalion came over, hesitant to interrupt, not understanding why Alexander had stopped. "The theatre," he said, waving his hands in the direction of the building."

Thalpius pulled at Hephaistion's chiton. "We will be in trouble, we should be back by now."

Antipater stepped over to Deucalion, giving his apologies, that Alexander would not be able to attend the theatre, due to urgent business. He then told Alexander he should go back into the palace, with Hephaistion.

Alexander nodded. "Come," said Alexander, to Hephaistion. "Let him go," he said to the boy, who released Hephaistion's chiton. "Who is he?" asked Alexander.

"His name is Thalpius."

Alexander grinned. "I can not believe you are here." He led the way to a room in the palace, anxious to be alone with Hephaistion, to gather his senses.

"I did not know that you were in the city," said Hephaistion, grinning with joy. "I could not believe my eyes when I saw you, just now." As soon as Alexander closed the door, he embraced him once more."

Alexander held him close, then needing to see Hephaistion's face he stepped back. Tears were running down Hephaistion's face. "We are together again," whispered Alexander, kissing Hephaistion gently, on the lips.

Hephaistion turned away, and rested his head on Alexander's shoulder. "It was Agathon."

"I know." Alexander noticed a scar on Hephaistion's upper arm.

Hephaistion looked at Alexander. "How? The two men he sent to kill me are dead. Did he confess?"

"I tricked him into a confession," Alexander replied. "I wanted him to be executed, but my father sent him into exile, instead."

Hephaistion nodded. "It is probably just as well, as I was not killed, though I sometimes think it would have been easier, it has been like a living death without you."

"You were always fair," laughed Alexander. "I wish that he weren't in exile now, I would like to see his face, when I ride back into Pella, with you by my side."

"It would be good to see Ptolemy, Seleucus and the others again. How are they?"

"They are all well."

"Is Seleucus still with the servant girl?"

Alexander had to think back. It had been a long time. The servant girl was ancient history to Seleucus. "No, he is in love with a girl at court…I forget her name. What happened, Hephaistion? Where have you been?"

"They decided I would make a fine slave."

"A slave?"

Hephaistion held Alexander tighter. "I was taken to Thermia, and sold to a merchant, called Darius, who took me to Persia. I don't know where we landed but I was sold to another slave dealer called Mazeus. He took me to Miletus, where the satrap, Satibarzanes, chose me…for the harem…Mazeus was to geld me."

Alexander pulled back, placing his hands on Hephaistion's shoulders. He looked alarmed.

Hephaistion smiled. "He did not. The two men who took me are dead. They were servants of Agathon's father…I suppose you know." Hephaistion looked at Alexander and got his answer.

"How did you come to Athens?"

Hephaistion smiled, once more, and ran his hand against Alexander's face. Alexander leaned his head into the touch. "I can hardly believe that I am with you," Hephaistion whispered.

"I won't let you out of my sight," Alexander promised. "The pain of losing you was too much to bear. I was losing my senses. You are my strength, Hephaistion, without you I am nothing."

"You underestimate yourself, Alexander. You have strengths only the Gods possess."

Alexander studied Hephaistion. "What is wrong?" he asked. "I can see that something is troubling you."

Hephaistion met his gaze, struggling to hide his concerns. He wanted this time with Alexander, and for nothing to mar the happiness he was feeling, even though he knew it could not last. "I worry for you."

Alexander could see the honesty in the answer. He grinned and held Hephaistion. "I will help you bathe, and fetch clean clothes for you, then we shall eat, and talk and plan our future, then I shall hold you in my arms while you sleep."

"I can not stay, Alexander."

"Of course you can, the Athenians are bending over backwards to accommodate me."

There was a knocking at the door, and Antipater entered. Alexander let go of Hephaistion, but stood close. "I hope that there is a good reason for this interruption, Antipater," he said, but smiled, nothing could ruin his happiness.

"There is a man outside, Alexander." Antipater hesitated, looking at Hephaistion. "He says that you are his servant, Hephaistion, and he would like you to return to him immediately."

Alexander looked at Hephaistion. "Who is this man?"

"My master," replied Hephaistion, closing his eyes. His dream was over. "He bought me from the satrap, had me swear allegiance to him. I have to go."

Hephaistion took a step forward but Alexander grabbed his arm, and turned him around. "You cannot leave. Who is this man?"

"His name is Memnon. He is a mercenary, who fights for Satibarzanes."

"Memnon? I have heard of him. My father told me about him." Alexander looked at the scar on Hephaistion's arm, once more. "You fight for him?"

Hephaistion pulled himself free. "Please, Alexander. This is hard enough. I prayed to the Gods for just a moment with you. I thought I would die before I ever got that chance. I have to fight for Memnon, but I will not fight against Macedonia…or with you."

"You will die." Alexander looked into Hephaistion's eyes. "You will let yourself be killed."

"I knew I could only steal a moment," whispered Hephaistion. "I wish I could spend eternity with you."

"Alexander."

Alexander looked towards the door, and saw a tall, impressive man, a soldier, standing beside Antipater. Behind him was the boy, Thalpius. Memnon bowed to Alexander, then looked at Hephaistion. "Say your farewells," he said.

"Please, Memnon, let me stay, just a moment longer," pleaded Hephaistion.

"I knew it was a mistake to bring you to Athens," replied Memnon. "I should have left you with Pandarus, in Persia, instead of bringing you here."

"Hephaistion will not go with you," snapped Alexander, stepping forward.

Memnon put his hand on his sword, Alexander was unarmed. Antipater, who had been silent, called for the guard.

Hephaistion went to Memnon; he looked into his eyes. "I will come now. Please let me have just a moment more."

Memnon studied Hephaistion, and then looked over his shoulder at Alexander. "One moment. I shall wait outside." He pushed Thalpius out of the room, then left.

Antipater bowed and left the room.

Hephaistion rested his head on the door, Alexander stayed where he was. "Find out how much he wants for your freedom, Hephaistion, because I can not let you go."

Hephaistion took a deep breath, and lifted his eyes up to the Gods, before turning to look on Alexander. "He knew who I was. When he saw me in the satrap's palace. He had been to Pella, and watched us play, when we were young. He said that he sensed then we would be lovers. He knows what I mean to you…and that is worth more than gold to him."

"You had allegiance to me…long before you ever did to him."

Hephaistion smiled, and put his hand on his heart. "You will always have it, Alexander, but we are far from home. If I break my word to Memnon, and stay with you, he will take me back. What forces do you have at your disposal, Alexander? I would not see you risk yourself." He sighed. "I think of you all the time, Alexander. You will be in my heart, until the end." He opened the door, and was gone.

Alexander took a moment to gather himself, and then he hurried after Hephaistion. As he reached the hall, he took a sword from a guard, and ran into the street, but Hephaistion had gone. "Hephaistion!" he called. "Hephaistion, come back!"

PART FORTY-FOUR

Hephaistion heard Alexander crying out for him. He struggled but Memnon held him tightly, his large hand clamped across his mouth, so he could hardly breathe, let alone reply to Alexander.

"Keep still," Memnon warned. He had been waiting for Hephaistion to appear, and when he did, had quickly pulled him out of sight, anticipating that Alexander would follow. He glanced from behind the pillar. Alexander was being encouraged back into the palace. Hephaistion struggled once more; Memnon turned him around so that his back was against the marble pillar.

"We will sail back to Persia in the morning," he whispered. "I have done what I can for my sister, by bringing Sarpedon's ashes home and giving her money. Thalpius will stay with her; he will be safe. It will be too dangerous to stay for long, Alexander will hunt through Athens for you, won't he?" He let his hand fall from Hephaistion's mouth.

Hephaistion did not answer. His allegiance was to Alexander, to keep him safe, to honour their friendship…their love. He would keep his bargain with the Gods and go back to Persia, and he would die in the first battle against Alexander.

He pulled away from Memnon and made his way back to Thetis' house.

Thalpius came running into the courtyard, his face flushed with excitement. He could not speak, as he was out of breath from his haste.

"What is it, Thalpius?" asked Thetis, putting down her sewing, and going to him.

"Hephaistion," he gasped. "You should have seen…"

Thetis fetched a stool for Thalpius, guiding him to sit on it. "Where is Memnon?"

"With Hephaistion…they will be here shortly, he waited for him."

"Who? Waited for who?" asked Thetis.

"Memnon was waiting for Hephaistion…Alexander of Macedon is here, we did not know…you should have seen…he held him, took him to the palace."

"Memnon?"

"No, Hephaistion," Thalpius raised his voice, it was all so clear to him.

"The boy is an idiot," said Boebeis, an elderly servant. She said a silent prayer to the Gods as she looked on him. They had hoped that Persia would make a man of him; instead it had made her mistress a widow.

"Quiet, Boebeis," said Thetis, glancing at her, before looking back to Thalpius.

Just then, Hephaistion appeared, walking quickly through the courtyard and into the house. Thetis looked at Boebeis, and then turned as Memnon appeared. He called for one of his men, whom he had guarding the gate to the house, telling him to watch Hephaistion. Then he sent another, Thoas, to the port.

Stepping into the courtyard, he looked at Thetis. "We will be leaving in the morning, with the tide."

Thetis stepped forward, blocking Memnon's path. "You said that you would be here for a while, why are you leaving in such a hurry? Thalpius spoke of Alexander, what has happened?

"I made a mistake," said Memnon, brushing by his sister to go into the house.

Thetis followed him, into the kitchen. They were alone. Memnon was pouring himself a cup of wine. He took a large sip of it and then sat at a table, brooding. Thetis considered leaving him, but against her better judgement she sat down, and waited quietly for him to talk. He would always talk, eventually.

Memnon took another sip of wine, glancing at Thetis, anger crossing his face. He put down the cup, and slapped the table. "You did not tell me that Alexander of Macedon was here," he snapped.

Thetis flinched a little from the rebuke. "You did not ask," she replied, curtly. "I had other things to concern myself with."

Memnon felt ashamed. His sister had loved Sarpedon with all of her heart, as much as he loved his own wife, Barsine. "I am sorry," he whispered.

Thetis watched Memnon's face, seeing it soften. "What happened with Hephaistion?" she asked.

Memnon sighed. "How much do you know? I suppose Thalpius has told you where I found him."

"Yes, but Sarpedon also told me in a letter home. He says that you paid a high price, for a servant."

"I knew him. I saw him at Pella with Alexander…when they were boys."

Thetis absorbed the information, but then grew puzzled. "Did you mean to reunite them?"

Memnon shook his head. "If I had known Alexander was here, Hephaistion would have stayed in Persia. As it is, he just saw Alexander, and went to him."

"So, even though you intended to keep them apart, the Gods did not wish it."

Memnon laughed. "I do not believe the Gods are that cunning." He took another sip of wine. "When I first brought him to my army, I gave him to the care of an experienced soldier called Pelias, in the hope that Hephaistion would settle." He looked at Thetis. "Pelias had the look of Alexander, and like Alexander, Pelias fell in love with Hephaistion."

"And Hephaistion with Pelias?" Thetis was confused, in her mind, it would be a simple thing to reunite Alexander with Hephaistion, and claim a reward.

"I do not know," said Memnon. "After the last battle, Hephaistion took a horse. It looked as if he had escaped, they could not find him…at first. When they did, he was sitting on the battlefield, holding Pelias' body to him. He withdrew into himself after that. Then three of his friends announced that they were returning home, to seek their fortune in other ways. Something softened in me, and I promised Hephaistion I would bring him to Athens. It seemed to bring him to life once more." Memnon stood up, and poured some more wine into his cup.

Thetis studied Memnon. "So you hope to weaken Alexander, by keeping Hephaistion by your side?"

Memnon pointed at Thetis, smiling. "You would have made a great general," he said.

"But it is Philip who will lead an invasion, not Alexander."

"It is still an advantage."

"I thought you were fairer than that," Thetis said, growing angry. "I always thought that it was a cruel thing to keep a cricket in a cage." She liked Hephaistion. It all made sense to her now; he had a quiet nobility about him, and a great sadness too. How would he be feeling, that Alexander were so close, that her brother would not let him go to him? "You should let the boy go."

Memnon laughed. "That is what Pelias said."

"Then Pelias had more honour than you," snapped Thetis, standing up and going to the door. She was angry, and intended to leave, but she had more to say. "What if Alexander took Barsine?"

"He never could," scoffed Memnon.

"But imagine he had," insisted Thetis. "What if he hoped to weaken you by keeping her close?"

"He wouldn't, I would just be more determined…"

"And if Barsine was killed?"

"I would avenge her…no matter what it took."

Thetis looked at Memnon, hoping that her words had struck home; she had taken her best shot. "Love is love," she said, opening the door, and going out, slammed it behind her.

PART FORTY-FIVE

The next morning, as dawn broke, Memnon and Hephaistion made their way to the ship that would take them back to Persia.

Thoas had taken their luggage; Thetis had prepared a breakfast for them. She was still silent. Boebeis dropped the plate of food in front of Memnon, whereas she placed Hephaistion's plate in front of him, and stroked his hair in a motherly fashion.

Memnon looked at Thetis. Must she tell the old woman everything? He took good care of Hephaistion. He spoke then, of the property and land he had bought close to Miletus, that Barsine would be there by now, that Hephaistion would be happy there.

His words were met with silence.

As they stood to go, Thetis gave Hephaistion a fine cloak, which had belonged to Sarpedon, pointing out to him where she had embroidered it. Her eyes had filled with tears as she embraced him. Hephaistion had held her tightly, thanking her for her kindness.

Now they walked in silence. Memnon glanced over at the cloak in Hephaistion's arms. Then looking at Hephaistion he saw him looking around…for Alexander, it had to be. Memnon spat on the ground. He was happy to see the harbour, his men waiting by the ship; there were new recruits amongst them.

"Memnon!"

Memnon turned, to see Thetis and Boebeis standing there. Thetis had tears in her eyes; she opened her arms and walked to her brother, embracing him.

"We should not part in anger," she cried. "I do not know if I should see you again. The last time that I saw Sarpedon…"

Memnon kissed her face. "I know, I know," he comforted.

Thetis smiled, releasing Memnon, she turned to Boebeis and took a package from her. "I prepared some food, for your journey." She handed the package to Memnon, and then looked at the ship. "How soon do you sail?"

"I just have to get the men on board."

Thetis nodded, wiping tears from her face. She laughed. "It is so silly, I hate goodbyes," she said. "I prefer constancy and happy endings."

"You are young enough to find your happy ending," replied Memnon, kissing her forehead. "Go now then, do not wait. I will write."

Thetis smiled; she looked at Hephaistion. "Goodbye, Hephaistion. I wish you a happy ending too." She stepped forward and kissed his cheek.

"You are kind, Thetis," whispered Hephaistion. "I wish you joy." As he spoke he looked up at the city.

Thetis took a final look, and then turned and went with Boebeis.

Memnon turned and walked a few paces towards the ship. He stopped and looked at the floor, then at Hephaistion. He sighed, and shook his head. He walked a couple of more paces, Thoas ran over, awaiting orders. "Get the men on board. We have to leave," he said, handing the package to Thoas, who ran back shouting orders.

He turned to Hephaistion. "We will have a quiet journey, will we not?"

Hephaistion gazed on him, but said nothing.

"You have managed to turn my sister against me. Pelias…our final words were those of anger," he sighed, remembering his last words. "Pelias asked me how much for your freedom. He wanted to buy your liberty."

Tears came to Hephaistion's eyes. "I did not know," he answered, quietly.

"You are a good soldier, Hephaistion."

Memnon sighed once more. He looked at the ship, and looked back to Athens. "My sister tells me that Pelias had more honour than I. When he died, I still owed him for his services. It rankles me that I did not pay him his due. He had no family that I know of…and I had known him for a long time. I will probably regret this, but it is one way that I can make amends to Pelias…by setting you free, Hephaistion."

He looked at Hephaistion and saw the happiness rise in his face, as the sun was rising in the sky. "Go. Go find your Alexander."

Hephaistion took a step back, his eyes on Memnon, as if fearing he would change his mind. "Thank you," he said, unable to say more. He turned and began to run.

"Hephaistion!"

Hephaistion stopped, and turned to Memnon.

Memnon took a moment to look at him. To remember him. "When we meet in battle, as we may, I will treat you like an enemy, although I love you like a son."

"I will never forget you. For what you have done. You are a great man, Memnon."

Memnon smiled. "Now, go…" he said.

PART FORTY-SIX

Hephaistion ran through the streets, to the palace. As he approached, he looked at the worn black chiton he was wearing. He looked like a beggar, the guards would never let him through.

He slowed to a walk, throwing the cloak around his shoulders, and combed his hair with his fingers in an effort to look more presentable. He laughed. He was free, and he was going to Alexander.

The guards did challenge him, but sent a man to ask for Alexander. Hephaistion paced up and down while he waited. Eventually the man came back, and passed a message to the guards, who signalled for Hephaistion to enter and follow the man.

He followed him through tall, painted hallways, which reminded him of Satibarzanes palace at Miletus, how gaudy it had been, how he had thought of Pella. How Memnon had followed him from it, made him fight.

The man showed him into a large room, the lamps were still burning in it, the sun not yet shining through the windows.

"Hephaistion."

His name was said in wonder, but it was not Alexander who spoke. Hephaistion looked. "Antipater, where is Alexander?"

"Still sleeping, I should think. I ordered that the wine not be watered down, last night. He wanted to search for you, I guessed you would be gone by morning."

Hephaistion nodded. "Memnon has gone."

Antipater smiled; he approached Hephaistion and put his hands on his shoulders. "Then I am glad to see you. I have been so concerned for Alexander, perhaps the world will go back on its axis now you are here."

Hephaistion smiled. "I still feel like a servant. I expect Memnon to appear at any moment. Please, Antipater, I need to see Alexander."

Antipater squeezed his shoulders, and then let him go. He signalled for Hephaistion to follow him, and led him down another hallway, where Thamyris and Hyrtacus stood guard. As Antipater disappeared into the room, asking Hephaistion to wait, Thamyris and Hyrtacus grinned at Hephaistion, reaching to touch him, whispering words of greeting and happiness at his return. They had heard of his meeting with Alexander the day before.

Antipater came out of the room. "He is still asleep," he informed Hephaistion, but he held the door open and Hephaistion went into the room. The door closed behind him.

Hephaistion removed his sandals, so that he could move silently on the marble floor. He could hear Alexander's deep breaths, he would be dreaming. Moving towards the bed, Hephaistion looked out across the open balcony. A ship was in full sail; he should have been on it. He thought of the man on board, before turning to gaze upon Alexander.

He lay naked on the bed, a sheet low on his hips. His left hand reached under the pillow. The Iliad would be there…and a dagger. Alexander always slept with a dagger under his pillow. His right hand lay against his chest. He looked beautiful. He was always beautiful.

Hephaistion stood and watched him sleeping. As he watched, entranced, he removed his cloak, then reached to undo the belt of his chiton, placing it on a nearby chair. Then, unclipping it, he let it fall to the floor, before removing his undergarments so he stood naked in the dawn light.

Then so very carefully, he walked towards the bed, and lifting the sheet, lay down next to Alexander.

Alexander murmured in his sleep, but did not wake. Hephaistion smiled, and moved closer, feeling Alexander's body heat. He gently placed a hand on Alexander's hip, and was overjoyed when Alexander's right arm slid against his waist.

"Alexander," whispered Hephaistion. Alexander moved against him. Hephaistion let his left hand slide up from Alexander's hip, along his back, to his shoulders, and then let his fingers slide into his hair. He leaned forward and kissed Alexander's lips, brushing against them as Pelias had brushed his lips against his.

As he pulled back, he saw Alexander's eyes were opening, looking on him with disbelief.

"He set me free," whispered Hephaistion.

Alexander's hand ran along Hephaistion's body, mirroring the movements of his own hand. "Hephaistion?" Alexander breathed. "You are no dream?"

Hephaistion laughed and shook his head. "Your Patroclus is home, my Alexander," he replied, kissing Alexander once more, moving against him.

Alexander laughed, propping himself up on his left elbow, soaking in the vision…Hephaistion, before him. He ran his right hand down Hephaistion's face, and then leaned forward to kiss him lovingly, then passionately. "I need to love you, Hephaistion. Just to prove it to myself. I have dreamed of you for so long."

"Then we must have been together, in our dreams, each night," replied Hephaistion. "I need you, Alexander." Hephaistion looked towards the door. "And you have guards on the door, we cannot be disturbed."

They laughed, embracing, remembering happy times. They were reunited and would go on to a future together. Always together.

THE END


End file.
